First thing this morning I leapt out of bed, pulled my coat over my PJs and ran to the bodega for The New York Times. Why the hurry, you ask? Because of this baby, baby. Nine months after we found an abandoned restaurant in Chinatown, knocked out walls with sledgehammers, dug up floor tiles with hammers and whacked our names on the door, Isaac's gallery, Lyles & King, our 100 square foot, epically dusty, 9-month gestated baby got its first (glowing) Times review. It feels so good, and I'm so beyond proud of Isaac (just looking at the photo above sets my heart a-flutter). What a year it has been, literal blood, sweat and tears. Yet seeing our names in all their tiny sooty-inked glory, tucked into a full novel of daily news copy, shoved akimbo onto a thousand uncaring doorsteps in the greater New York City metropolitan area? Oh let me tell you it feels like magic.
As for the weekend? Well, the news is full of apocalyptic sounding updates about tomorrow's scheduled snow storm (the epically named Jonas). As is our want, Isaac and I are fabulously unprepared, vaguely discussing that, with the lines for Whole Foods already out the door, we'll probably just revert to our fave local red sauce Italian joint for dinner once the snow sets in (Giovannis, please be open) . But lasagna or no lasagna, I got warm boots, a bath tub and a bottle of bourbon, so I'm pretty convinced we'll be fine either way. Eat your heart out, Bear Grylls. Make sure you stay warm, darlings. See ya on slushy Monday.
This Mara Hoffman top is on my wish list
An absolute must-subscribe- My darling Dolly's brilliant new newsletter
A simple, beautiful everyday ring
Crushing hard on the lovely wares of ceramicist Karla Carletti
This awesome wedding haka is totally awe-inspiring
My devotion to Kneipp bath salts continues in earnest. This time it's this one
Snoop Dogg narrating animal shows is officially one of the best things on the internet