I've been reluctant to emerge from my boudoir this weekend, except for presents (a copy of Alain Badiou's In Praise of Love, procured in London, and bestowed during a magical brunch) and bubbly, and maybe not even then. The stars and the lipstick (Chanel's "La Fascinate") swept in with a guest for cocktails Friday night. Out now for a quick little glass of champagne with a friend, rescheduled from earlier in the week when I begged off due to fatigue. The occasion, at least in my mind: it's the first day my hair has been long enough to pin up in two years. Huzzah.