I encountered this well dressed creature at a rally on the steps at City Hall. Doesn't she look like an efficient line drawing? Nothing is superfluous about her, despite prominence of stature, masses of flame-colored hair, and a very Plantagenet-looking forehead and nose. In fact, her resemblance to Margaret Pole, (née Plantagenet) 8th Countess of Salisbury is uncanny. The countess, by the way, was the last legitimate member of the Plantagenet dynasty, (1473-1541) niece of King Edward IV and King Richard III and was executed on the chopping block at command of her cousin King Henry VIII.
Ouch!
Our Lady of the City Hall Steps works for an important housing non-profit, and will no doubt contribute a more spiritually uplifting legacy than the aforementioned, and unfortunate, Countess.
Remember when, back in the nineteen forties, Barbara Hutton was chucked out of the Paris Ritz? If memory has failed you, Hutton was wearing... culottes.
Standards of convention in dress certainly have digressed a helluvalot since then, eh? But the iconic Westwood/McClaren t-shirt, with a rather risqué Tom of Finland drawing silkscreened on it, still manages to cock more than just a few eyebrows -- a whopping thirty years after Sid Vicious wore his! I spotted this youthquaker on the subway last night. And quite a fine specimen he is, indeed. Skinny as the aforementioned Woolworth heiress and the punk god, the boy radiates the bloom of youth to imbue the now-classic garment with a certain somethin'.
