Busy sleeping recently. Last week I dusted off my sewing machine and (probably) ruined some silk, but it felt like progress. How to become adept at hemming chiffon? Jesus it is so hard.
Fall has been crisp and beautiful so far. A lot of apple cider in the mix. As always, I cannot believe the passage of this year. Things are so different from 2 years ago, when I was an unpaid fashion intern. Things are less apparently different from 1 year ago, when I was beginning this job.
For one thing, my hair got very long and now it's shorter again. I'm always so conflicted about haircuts before and afterwards, but when I'm in that chair there is nothing more relaxing.
The Amsterdam Market and Fulton Stalls are nearing the end of their summer run at the Seaport. Sad, the emptiness that will roll in when they pack up. The lushness of summer even leaves the air, which reminds you that clear can also mean bare. I want to return to Hudson, to Saugerties. A gorgeous autumn there. I want pie, apple and otherwise. KL is taking me to Blue Hill at Stone Barns just outside of the city next month, and I AM SO EXCITED I COULD SQUEAL. It's farm to table dining, actually. No menu, tasting courses dictated by the day's harvest, a showcase of organic vegetables to begin each meal. Eep. It will serve as this season's foray North, which lures and frightens me all at once, the cold.
A visit from my friend Meredith
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