Here, an ingenue author of poignant children’s books, like Come to the Doctor, Harry:
[Johnson shorts + J.Crew tux shirt + J.Crew tux blazer + Gorjana jewelry + Gucci heels + Burberry scarf + vintage gold club bar glass + vintage book I just got for my baby nephew to begin the slow, gradual process of imposing my tastes and preferences upon him.]
Hopefully, all conscientious mothers are in a slight panic, running to make sure they don’t own any kids’ books written by yours truly, on the off chance I might have slipped “throbbing member” into a story, per my last post (which no one noticed anyway).
I don’t know why when it gets hot, I dress like a WASPy biotche; it just feels right. This sort of reminded me of Blair Waldorf, or Olivia Palermo, except I can remember who designed my shorts. Pile on the oxford cloth, the silk tweed, and the tailored, lightweight wool—definitely not for the faint of heart and/or anti-East Coast. Apply cold vodka tonics when necessary.
His + Hers:
And a bonny Tuesday to you.