Devastated to hear about the passing of hairdressing legend, Vidal Sassoon. My husband & I have actually been trying to emulate his positive lifestyle after viewing the wonderful 2010 documentary, How One Man Changed the World With a Pair of Scissors. It took my breath away to watch footage of him doing yoga beautifully at age 81 . . . still full of creativity, ambition, and humour. He seemed to be nothing less than radiant, and his self-made success story should be an inspiration to any creative or inventive soul.

Above: Sassoon (middle) with his debonair London salon team, c.late-1960s. Below: Model Suzy Parker in Chanel, getting tousled gorgeously by Vidal, c.early-1960s.

After years of experimenting with old fashioned '50s bouffants in London, Sassoon took a trip to New York city, and after falling in awe with the varied architectural landscape, he had a revelation that hair needed to be modernized for the fast-paced lifestyles of stylish metropolitan young babes.

Above: Vidal's first salon in London, all chrome, smoky mirrors and velvety browns, c.late 1960s. Below, L: Vidal's UK staff on their first visit to NY, where they were received like rock stars. Below, R: Vidal and his Beverly Hills salon staff, c.early-1980s.

His first famous experiment was in 1965, when he snipped model Grace Coddington's crimson locks into the sculptural "Five Point" cut for a story in Vogue. After seeing the photo, all the long-locked dollybirds came running into his futuristic-Deco London salon for cropped new 'dos. Designer Many Quant took notice of Vidal's magic talents, and inspired by each other, they revolutionized the modern look in unison . . . Quant giving girls monochromatic mini skirts and pop art accessories, and Sassoon giving them the look of cool, plus freedom from hairspray and weekly salon visits.

Above: Many Quant in her Sassoon bob, c.mid-1960s. Below: Vidal and Grace Coddington in her "Five Point" cut, as shot by David Bailey (?)

Now because we all look good, you'll always look good, Vidal Sassoon.

"One day in Berlin, Eno came running in and said, 'I have heard the sound of the future!' . . . he puts on I Feel Love, by Donna Summer. He said, 'This is it . . . look no further. This single is going to change the sound of club music for the next fifteen years.' Which was more or less, right."

                                                                     —David Bowie

Still trying to process the passing of Donna Summer, who provided the soundtrack to endless  childhood lip-synching routines, awkward Bar Mitzvah slow-dances, and teenage pre-rave warm-up parties (we always listened to Sunset People on the way to map points). It was to Last Dance that I got drunk for the first time at age 10, hiding under a table drinking champagne at my aunt's wedding (marking the end of my career as flower girl). In jazz class at age 13, we passionately rehearsed a Bad Girls routine, pretending we were hookers (Appropriate? No . . . Educational? Of course).

I first discovered the magical princess of the night when my dad brought home the die-cut gatefold of 1978's Live and More, resulting in hours of staring at Donna's rainbow sparkle gown on the back cover. She became an obsession, and for many years the poster from On the Radio, was pinned to my Marimekko castle wallpaper (see the shot below, and take note of the cartoon heels!)

Her Moroder collabs are some of the sexiest and most influential moments to ever occur in modern music. I'm regretting never having made an effort to hear her otherworldly voice live. Here's hoping she'll have a gig when we arrive at the never-ending disco in the sky.

Recommended viewings in honor of Donna . . . Thank God it's Friday (1978) and Foxes (1980). Recommended Summer reading  . . . writer Jon Savage and DJ Ewan Pearson on the catalytic power of I Feel Love.

And in other sad disco news . . . adieu to Robin Gibb. Looks like God really loves to Hustle.

As alerted to by Rose Apodaca . . . my ultra-chic friend and fellow Cali-style expert, THIS SUNDAY is the final day of the epic LACMA exhibit, California Design, 1930-1965: Living in a Modern Way. So if in L.A., and a lover of classic West Coast mid-century vibes, hustle down to Miracle Mile, or fear reading the exhibit book and weeping that you missed it in all its golden teak glory.

Above: Another reason to worship this exhibit . . . the rare chance to practically step inside Charles and Ray Eames' iconic living room, every piece of which has been meticulously moved from Case Study House #8, where the Eames' lived throughout their lives, starting in 1949. When touring the home's permanent location in Pacific Palisades, you may only peek through the windows, so this is a special close-up view of their tzotchkes, furnishings, and books (so many of which are the same we have on our shelves at home).

I'm so glad we took the time to experience it when last in L.A., as we exited the show bursting with creative inspiration. I'm filled with even more native Californian pride than before, and dreams of perfectly simple, handcrafted work, surf, sunshine and mod Hollywood poolside glam. Here are some shots we sneakily snapped while viewing the exhibit in March . . .

Above: Fab Paul Fusco photo, c.late-1940s, of Billy & Audrey Wilder hanging with Charles & Ray Eames in the "conversation room" of their Pacific Palisades home. Below: Art Deco Cal-Arts pamphlets.

Above: Claire Falkenstein's model for client Peggy Gugenheim's garden gates, c.1961 (they remain at Guggenheim's home in Venice, Italy). Incantation Textile by Alvin Lustig for Laverne Originals, c.1947. Below:Arches and Dome Renaissance Christmas gift boxes by Joe Hong for Joseph Magnin (San Francisco), c.1966. Kraft paper Doggie bag for Lawry's Foods, art directed by Saul Bass, illustrated by Art Goodman and Phyllis Tanner, c.1961.

Below: Mr. Taylor and my sister, Miss. Lizzie, taking in all the beauty, as well as a bitchin' 1961 Studebaker Avanti, designed by Raymond Loewy, along with three Pasadena Art Center students.

On June 19th I turned the ripe ol' age of 37. Officially making this the first birthday that has totally freaked me out. I'm not sure why 36 didn't have me hiding under a blankie and pondering self-medication, but a few weeks ago, when I said my new age out loud, it just felt like a clerical error. How can I be this close to 4-0, especially if I still get carded at bars, and my soul sends signals that it's still nineteen. Yet I also know that if I continue to stress about the inevitable, I'll get wrinkles. So, I'm choosing to celebrate my years on Earth with a retrospective of something that makes me happy . . . cake! Here's a timeline of birthday sweets I've scarfed (though sadly no cakes were documented during my punk or goth years, as I was too busy dieting for my wedding to Nick Cave and fantasizing about impending doom to think about anything having to do with birth). My late-90s and most of the 2000s are also absent due to a tragic harddrive theft years ago (hypnotism may be the next thing I try to get over this). Thanks mom & Dad for always singing Happy Birthday to me, even as I rolled my teenage eyes.

Top and above: Stuffing my face at my 1st birthday party c.1976, Woodland Hills, CA (loving the round mauve sunnies and my mum's striped sailor tee). Below: My holy childhood trinity of Mickey, Snoopy, and Hollie Hobby (1977-1979).

Above: Party at McDonald's (which I had to cry and beg my mom to let me have, as she hated for us to eat fast food) c.1980. Below, Left: An ironically tacky pink cake held by high school friends Kelly & Jill, at a '70s themed birthday beer fest (thrown while my parents were out of town, and also in celebration of our friend Pat joining Nirvana), c.1992. Right: Celebrating and pouting through My 18th birthday, N. Hollywood, CA, 1993 (during a Jean Harlow obsessed period).

Above: With stylist Scott Free and designer Pegah Anvarian in my coconut bra and Betty Grable 'do during a luau themed pool party at Chez Brandt, c.1995 (I did feel a little pissed when Gwen Stefani copped this hair/make-up vibe later on). Note the giant glitter paintings of Dorothy's ruby slippers, Boy George, and a Big Top Pee Wee posters adorning the walls of my parent's kitchen.

Above, Left: Family party for my 19th, in our old Valley Village, CA dining room. I'm wearing a Cynthia Rowley denim halter dress, and cherry barrette adorning my Madonna "Rain" video/Edie Sedgwick inspired hair cut. Middle: Brief pink juicy sweatsuit phase after breaking-up with a longtime beau, and pretending all was normal. We went to Casa Vega in Studio City for the first of many birthday flans. Right: Another flan at El Compadre (followed by one of their epic flaming margaritas), Hollywood, c.1998?

Above, Left: Another party at my parents old house on Morrison St. in Valley Village, c.2005 (with what is still one of my favorite cakes . . . Raspberries & Creme from Urth Café). Right: With the lovely Christina Caruso at the legendary Elaine's in NYC (R.I.P.!), c.2010. Below, Left: Plastered on Nigori at a sushi joint in Westchester, c.2012. Below, Right: Blowing out the candle on my most favorite dessert of all time . . . the warm nutella, olive oil & sea salt pizza at Pulino's, NYC, c.2012.

And a hip-hip-hoorah too all my fellow Geminis! Most especially; Marilyn Monroe, Gena Rowlands, Cyndi Lauper, Walt Whitman, Laurie Anderson, Josephine Baker, Prince, Siouxsie Sioux, Irving Penn, Sandra Bernhard, Paul McCartney, Stevie Nicks, Jamie Oliver, M.K. & Ashley, Boy George, Isabella Rossellini, Michael Cera, Sun Ra, Jacques Cousteau, Gene Wilder, Johnny Depp, Nick Drake, Carey Mulligan, Queen Victoria, Modigliani, Rosalind Russell, Isadora Duncan, Harvey Milk, Ann Wilson of Heart, Brian Wilson, Michelle Pfeiffer, Bob Dylan, Peggy Lee, Roger Ebert, Brooke Shields, Judy Garland, Vincent Price, Dashiell Hammett, Levon Helm, Angelina Jolie, JFK, and Nicole Kidman.

Above: Another shot of the long dreamed about nutella pizza at Pulino's with fave ladies, Christina Caruso & Hayley Kaufman, c.2012.

When looking through a recent auction catalog of contemporary art, I fell head-over-heels with American photographer Sandi Fellman's 1990 Incantation series . . . each shot a still life-of-sorts, luxurious messes of pattern and textile, with a mysterious David Lynch-ian vibe. I'd love to live in the decadent mood they exude, and hope to have one adorning my wall someday soon. Here are the three I'm especially swooning over . . .

Above: Fellman's Incantation #'s 22, 11, and 6 (each taken in 1990).

After reading news of Estelle Ellis Rubinstein's death in WWD last week, I wanted to pay homage to this inspiring, enterprising woman. After working for Popular Science in the 1940s, she went on to publish Seventeen in 1944, which became my bible throughout the '80s (especially when they made Molly Ringwald a cover girl, in her straw cloche). Many of the issues I so treasured are kept in archival sleeves on my bookshelf, along with the fabulous '60s and '70s issues that provide me with endless inspiration. Under the astute eye of editor-in-chief Helen Valentine, the mag hired now-legendary graphic designers when they were just starting out . . . Andy Warhol, Milton Glaser, Seymour Chwast, Ben Shahn, and Sol LeWit are only a few of the artists that contributed type, layouts, and drawings to Seventeen during its golden era, making the early issues all the more collectible. Estelle also launched Charm magazine in the 1950s, which later became Glamour. Here are some of my favorite covers of the mags Estelle created . . .

Wishing I could post more often, but my husband & I are currently forming a new company (exciting details to be announced soon), on top of tending to our burgeoning design studio, which is currently a wonderful madhouse due to this feature about our work on Garance Doré! We're burning our candles at both ends, bright, to say the least. 

But if you'd like to keep up with our shenanigans on a more timely basis, you can follow @JB_Taylor on Twitter, or @Mrs_JBT on Instagram, where I post quite often. Here are some of my favorite recent captures . . .

Above, from top: Hand carved wooden camp totem spotted Upstate, moi celebrating my new Karen Walker Summer sunnies, Hydrangeas in our garden (the deer ate them all that night!), rooftop in Brooklyn at sunset, Ali Baba the Pug's usual morning pose, stunning antique embroidered kimonos currently on display at the Putnam History Museum (Cold Spring, NY), channelling The Craft with my witch sister Aviva in our Hobbity garden, Garance Doré enjoying the gorgeously scented rosemary at Hudson Hil's, across the road from our house at Russell Wright's woodland home 'Manitoga' (which Garance lovingly featured on her site) Ali Baba in his basket with his beloved bagel toy, weepy garden blooms, catching fireflies in the yard.

Like many starry-eyed little girls growing up in Hollywood, my first love was Marilyn.

I'm sure it would be hard for any aesthetically-minded human not to be moved by her innocence, genius, and dreamy aura. I've read many books about her life, each portraying a different mythology . . . but the fact that many of us have our own interpretation of her story, is further testament to her eternally captivating power.

This year marked the 50th anniversary of her death, and though it's blue to think about all the movie magic she had yet to conjure for us, I celebrate her spirit often. She had a wonderfully inquisitive mind, and fabulous taste . . . especially in clothing (simple Pucci pieces for day, Ceil Chapman gowns for evening), books (her Joyce, Hemingway and Whitman-laden library would've impressed any literary snob), and decor (she began collecting antiques in the 1950s, when it was still considered a bohemian hobby).

Her final home on Earth was a little Spanish bungalow in Brentwood, which she was happily  decorating up until the night of her tragically un-intentional OD. She had just returned from a trip to Mexico, where she ordered pieces of custom furniture that would soon be delivered to her beloved abode. While I'm sure most fans would imagine her home to be adorned with crystal chandeliers, white fur cushions, and gold leafed walls, it may surprise some to see that her nest was casual, warm, and completely unpretentious. She was setting up a cozy home, filled with hand-crafted Mexican art, weavings, Navajo pottery, and souvenirs from her travels.

Many of her beloved Mexican pieces were auctioned off years ago by Julien's in Los Angeles, and I've always treasured their catalog from the sale. It says more about this complex woman than any billowing white dress ever will. 1926–1962.

Sending you love and light, MM, wherever you are!

Select photos from top: Marilyn & mandolin by Milton Greene, her sun hat, photo of her festive dining room by Gene Anthony, Polaroid of her modern woven chairs (photog. unknown), the Iron boot was a gift from Clark Gable to MM during the filming of The Misfits in 1961, her portable record player.

Spooky painting from the gothic gatekeeper of Ghost Ranch, Georgia O'Keeffe.

Happy Hallow's Eve!

Giving thanks for everything and everybody in our lives today, along with sending strong vibes of abundance to those who are having troubled times. Hoping you have a wonderful, inspiring and warm dinner with family and friends tonight, and please be sure to comment about what you cooked! As for my man & I, we're doing something totally new this year . . . heading off on an orphan's Chinese-themed Thanksgiving date. Organic Peking turkey and sweet potato dumplings at Red Farm in the West Village!

I'm also very thankful for all the devoted subscribers who've put up with my lack of posts this year. I've been building two separate companies, one of which is launching this holiday season (announcements soon!). There are dozens of posts I'm dying to share, and will asap, but in the meantime, if you'd like ot keep up with my up-to-the-min. shenanigans, be sure to follow me on Twitter or Instagram<3

My sister & I grew-up loving our family tradition of walking down Fifth Ave. at Christmas time to check out the spectacular holiday windows. My parents were both in the fashion 'biz, so we were brought up with the sense that retailers were like temples . . . sacred places to feed our aspirations and show us glimpses of the divine. And just like midnight mass at St. Patrick's, every Winter these stores give passerby a gift of beauty, free of charge . . . brilliantly conceived portals to something magnificent. Also adding to the excitement, is the fact that all these retail temples are falling over backwards, in a competition for your love and devotion.

So as a gift to those who won't have a chance to stroll down 5th this season, I've taken snaps of the two holiday displays that really left me dazzled. First (naturally), is Bergdorf's Busby Berkeley-inspired BG Follies, with each window displaying a decadent vignette of Art Deco boudoir dollies & mini-mannequins moonlighting as chorus girls, jazz babies, Ziegfeld cuties, and mini-Earl Carroll-esque beauties holding Sally Rand-style feather fans.

Also swoon-worthy were Tiffany & Co.'s windows, which featured delicate miniature scenes of romantic Winter moments a-la Uptown Manhattan. Ingeniously conceptualized by my dear friend, Christopher Young, each scene exhibits a mind-bending attention to detail . . . from the nearly-microscopic Tiffany blue ornaments on the Christmas trees, to the tiny blue box placed in the fluffy snow on the steps leading up to an ornate little Brownstone. Each vignette, an emotional fantasy bringing me back to that wondrous feeling of wiring a dollhouse lamp into a shoebox diorama in 4th grade, and having it actually light-up, making me feel like a magical wizard of electricity. Forget the diamonds . . . through these windows you'll view passion, creative vision, and pure love.

Photos: J.B. Taylor

Above: New years eve at Studio 54, circa 1978

A rumor has it that
It's getting late
Time marches on
Just can't wait
The clock keeps turning
Why hesitate
You silly fool
You can't change your fate
Let's cut a rug
A little jive and jitterbug
We want the best
We won't settle for less
Don't be a drag
Participate
Clams on the half shell
And roller-skates
Roller-skates

Good times
These are the good times
Leave your cares behind
These are the good times
Our new state of mind
These are the good times

Good Times, Chic (1979)

Here's to an inspiring love and disco-filled 2013 everyone! XO, J.B.T.

I'm currently fighting the dreary Wintertime blues out here in our country cottage in NY—missing the California sunshine I grew-up with. So, in desperate need of colorful inspiration, I decided to re-visit the stunning documentary on the Ballets Russes (which you can view streaming here). On a grey and rainy day, like today, it's like a gold gilded treasure chest full of chromatic beauty, not only about dance, but all aspects of passion and creativity.

Above; Prima ballerina Mia Slavenska and a publicity photo of herself, taken in the 1930s. Below; two of Slavenska's characters, displaying her chamelion-like nature as a performer.

It's fabulous to see the original prima ballerinas still sassing it up, most of whom are dancing right on through their octo/nonagenarian years. How great they all look, and how vibrantly their spirits sparkle, is a testament to the grace and character one builds through a life of movement. Having taken years of ballet as a child (fueled by the movie Fame, and an early Chorus Line obsession), I sadly hung up my toe shoes in my late-teens, but watching this doc has reignited my love, and is responsible for my Ballet Beautiful membership. It's also dear to my heart, as it entertained me while recovering from a painful surgery years ago. While stuck in bed, I found it streaming on Netflix, and go absolutely lost in the Technicolor costumes (several designed by Matisse), mind-bogglingly innovative set design (mostly designed by Léon Bakst), and of course, the dancing, which is like watching the most heavenly dream.

Above; A stunning, surrealistic program for the Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo, c.1950s (possibly designed by Dali?). Below; two looks at the adorable Nathalie Krassovska.

The Ballets Russes has long been an inspiration to countless designers and artists throughout the years; designers and artists like Galliano, Anna Sui, and Sarah Sophie Flicker of The Citizens Band, have each taken cues from the deco folkloric styles of the costumes and sets. I'll soon post photos I took during a visit to the magical Dance Museet in Stockholm, where my heart pirouetted like crazy over several original 1920s Ballet Russe costumes.

Above; Salvador Dali's program for the Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo's production of Labyrinth, c.1940-41. Below; the company was home to some of the history's most celebrated dancers, including Nijinsky and Anna Pavlova, as pictured here.

If you'd like to dive deep into the story of the Ballets Russe, I recommend reading this wonderful book about the eccentric Russian impresario, Sergei Diaghilev, director and creator of this legendary company.

Love and organic Cadbury Creme Eggs (a girl can dream),

— J.B.T., Andy & Edie

And if not familiar with what this post title is in reference to . . . watch this unfortunate pop culture artifact.

Photo: Jean-Jacques Bugat, Rue Princesse, c.1966

Hello, you! I'm sorry it's been a while, but hopefully you'll forgive me when I launch the website I've been developing for the past year (more to be revealed soon)! As a gift to you for my absence, and also in an attempt to organize my ODC-worthy desktop of infinite inspiration folders, I've decided to share/purge some recent visual finds. Enjoy!

Above: 19th century Northern Schoolwatercolor still life spotted in an auction catalog.

Jerry Hall backstage, shot by FrançoisMoyal , Paris,c.1970.

"Nautch Dancer" Illustration for Ladies Home Journal by Dan Sweeney, c.1920.

A Southwestern style dollhouse named "El Rancho Reno", built c.1935 by Thomnas Reno of Pittsburgh for his daughter, and restored in the 1970's.

Georgia O'Keeffe painting at Alfred Stieglitz's Summer home in Lake George, NY, c.1918

And for musical inspiration, I've been listening to the mixes on Magic Transistor, which functions like the vintage portable radio of your fantasies. It even simulates the knobs so you can flip stations. They play mellow mixes perfect for when you're working, all curated by various obsessive LP collectors. Today I've been swaying at my desk to John Cale, Hank Williams, Fela Kuti, Bo Diddley, The Cure, Ultravox, rare Bowie, The Supremes,  and on and on . . .

After reading news of Estelle Ellis Rubinstein's death in WWD last week, I wanted to pay homage to this inspiring, enterprising woman. After working for Popular Science in the 1940s, she went on to publish Seventeen in 1944, which became my bible throughout the '80s (especially when they made Molly Ringwald a cover girl, in her straw cloche). Many of the issues I so treasured are kept in archival sleeves on my bookshelf, along with the fabulous '60s and '70s issues that provide me with endless inspiration. Under the astute eye of editor-in-chief Helen Valentine, the mag hired now-legendary graphic designers when they were just starting out . . . Andy Warhol, Milton Glaser, Seymour Chwast, Ben Shahn, and Sol LeWit are only a few of the artists that contributed type, layouts, and drawings to Seventeen during its golden era, making the early issues all the more collectible. Estelle also launched Charm magazine in the 1950s, which later became Glamour. Here are some of my favorite covers of the mags Estelle created . . .

Wishing I could post more often, but my husband & I are currently forming a new company (exciting details to be announced soon), on top of tending to our burgeoning design studio, which is currently a wonderful madhouse due to this feature about our work on Garance Doré! We're burning our candles at both ends, bright, to say the least. 

But if you'd like to keep up with our shenanigans on a more timely basis, you can follow @JB_Taylor on Twitter, or @Mrs_JBT on Instagram, where I post quite often. Here are some of my favorite recent captures . . .

Above, from top: Hand carved wooden camp totem spotted Upstate, moi celebrating my new Karen Walker Summer sunnies, Hydrangeas in our garden (the deer ate them all that night!), rooftop in Brooklyn at sunset, Ali Baba the Pug's usual morning pose, stunning antique embroidered kimonos currently on display at the Putnam History Museum (Cold Spring, NY), channelling The Craft with my witch sister Aviva in our Hobbity garden, Garance Doré enjoying the gorgeously scented rosemary at Hudson Hil's, across the road from our house at Russell Wright's woodland home 'Manitoga' (which Garance lovingly featured on her site) Ali Baba in his basket with his beloved bagel toy, weepy garden blooms, catching fireflies in the yard.

Like many starry-eyed little girls growing up in Hollywood, my first love was Marilyn.

I'm sure it would be hard for any aesthetically-minded human not to be moved by her innocence, genius, and dreamy aura. I've read many books about her life, each portraying a different mythology . . . but the fact that many of us have our own interpretation of her story, is further testament to her eternally captivating power.

This year marked the 50th anniversary of her death, and though it's blue to think about all the movie magic she had yet to conjure for us, I celebrate her spirit often. She had a wonderfully inquisitive mind, and fabulous taste . . . especially in clothing (simple Pucci pieces for day, Ceil Chapman gowns for evening), books (her Joyce, Hemingway and Whitman-laden library would've impressed any literary snob), and decor (she began collecting antiques in the 1950s, when it was still considered a bohemian hobby).

Her final home on Earth was a little Spanish bungalow in Brentwood, which she was happily  decorating up until the night of her tragically un-intentional OD. She had just returned from a trip to Mexico, where she ordered pieces of custom furniture that would soon be delivered to her beloved abode. While I'm sure most fans would imagine her home to be adorned with crystal chandeliers, white fur cushions, and gold leafed walls, it may surprise some to see that her nest was casual, warm, and completely unpretentious. She was setting up a cozy home, filled with hand-crafted Mexican art, weavings, Navajo pottery, and souvenirs from her travels.

Many of her beloved Mexican pieces were auctioned off years ago by Julien's in Los Angeles, and I've always treasured their catalog from the sale. It says more about this complex woman than any billowing white dress ever will. 1926–1962.

Sending you love and light, MM, wherever you are!

Select photos from top: Marilyn & mandolin by Milton Greene, her sun hat, photo of her festive dining room by Gene Anthony, Polaroid of her modern woven chairs (photog. unknown), the Iron boot was a gift from Clark Gable to MM during the filming of The Misfits in 1961, her portable record player.

Spooky painting from the gothic gatekeeper of Ghost Ranch, Georgia O'Keeffe.

Happy Hallow's Eve!

Giving thanks for everything and everybody in our lives today, along with sending strong vibes of abundance to those who are having troubled times. Hoping you have a wonderful, inspiring and warm dinner with family and friends tonight, and please be sure to comment about what you cooked! As for my man & I, we're doing something totally new this year . . . heading off on an orphan's Chinese-themed Thanksgiving date. Organic Peking turkey and sweet potato dumplings at Red Farm in the West Village!

I'm also very thankful for all the devoted subscribers who've put up with my lack of posts this year. I've been building two separate companies, one of which is launching this holiday season (announcements soon!). There are dozens of posts I'm dying to share, and will asap, but in the meantime, if you'd like ot keep up with my up-to-the-min. shenanigans, be sure to follow me on Twitter or Instagram<3