Welcome to A Few Good Mentions, a weekly (or so) toss-up of five random, share-worthy things I might come across, see, read, do, or eat in a given week. You can find me on Instagram, and my website, which I try my best to update with latest published works. Ok, let’s go!
Ooof, sorry for the pause! It’s been quite a full Fashion Month, that concluded in Paris—with a trip to Amsterdam afterwards to see family (see below). I wasn’t too thrilled to return to a city that was still very much in the throes of winter (ie, it snowed in NYC two days ago!), but it’s been nice to have decent water pressure again.
I was lucky enough to attend the Balenciaga runway show in Paris two weeks ago, which, after a maelstrom of controversy these past few month, was undoubtedly one of the season’s most-anticipated presentations. Did it/did it not turn things around for the brand? I have opinions, but I’m not as interested in discussing them here as I am in sharing the show’s soundtrack. The song, “Silver Linings,” by BFRND (who is also the creative director Demna’s partner) haunted me the whole rest of the day—and in the days following. In a secluded-feeling, cream-carpeted room downstairs in the Carrousel du Louvre, the spare melody of guitar and piano lent a sense of sadness, urgency, perhaps even prideful penitence (which I’m likely reading into too heavily). I can’t find the song on its own, but you can hear it over this video of the show.
If the past few weeks have offered any indication, I think we’re going to see two very distinct, but equally decorative, accessories emerge as statement pieces this season ahead: brooches and neckties (both of which I’ve recently acquired in multiple iterations). Neckties were on several fall runways, including Valentino and Prada, while I prefer the matching sets of shirts and ties shown by NYC-based label Kallmeyer, a personal favorite. Brooches, meanwhile, are turning up just about everywhere else. Jenny Walton is a professed fan and longtime wearer, as is the stylist Jason Bolden, who adorned Michael B. Jordan’s tuxedo jacket with TWO at last weekend’s Oscars.
It was a yin-yang day: While I was in Amsterdam last week, my sister treated me to a relaxing morning yoga class at her favorite studio, and afterwards I brought her to a fun lunch at the bright, glass-enclosed garden restaurant within the Pulitzer Hotel. This particular style of yoga, known as Yin yoga, involves staying in a single pose for long periods of time. (We’re talking up to 10 minutes.) The practice is all about slowing down and turning inward, as your body sinks deeper and deeper into the position. Of course there are health benefits as well: improved flexibility, boosted circulation, and an overall feeling of relaxation, but for me, an hour of long, meditative stretches in the dark was a gift enough.
Made me smirk: If New Yorkers are guilty of anything, it’s indulging a food fad—despite rolling our eyes and pretending we’re too cool for such things—which is why I especially loved this humorous piece from where else, but The New Yorker. Let me just call it now: grapefruit is due for a resurgence (because everyone loves a comeback story).
Speaking of faddish food and drink trends…anyone else seeing various shrubs (aka “drinking vinegars”) on a lot of cocktail menus lately? I had two different versions in one night this week, first at Soho House, and then another one, a delicious grape and black tea concoction, during dinner at the Wesley Both were non-alcoholic, but I’ve also seen fully-loaded versions at Peasant and Short Stories. Aside from the novelty and tangy flavor component, shrubs can also contribute to better gut health, which adds a layer—however thin it might be, depending on the drink—of wellness.
Something I wrote recently: a profile on Leonardo Bigazzi, the masterful art curator behind the million dollar pieces borrowed for the dramatic thriller, Inside, which debuted this week and stars Willem Defoe.
Also, I didn’t write this, but I offer a knowing recommendation for NYC’s best female haircutter for fine, thin hair: Julie Dickson, who’s been cutting my own locks for nearly my entire post-college adulthood.
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