I just picked up a pair of my wingtips from being re-soled at the shoe repair. I love the smell of shoe repair. Leather, metal, Kiwi, Meltonian... I love it the same way I love the smell of gasoline, Sharpies and White-Out. I'll be here a while...
My landlord originally sold the apartment to a buyer who wanted to live here, forcing me to move (which I did not want to do). The sale fell through. The new buyer is an investor. I get to stay. We're happy.
In my 18 years in NYC, I've never blown a tire. (I'm lucky. I know.) On my way to the fitting last night for Saturday's fashion show at the New Amsterdam Bike Show, something popped my rear tire. I'm thinking "NOW??!!" Anyway... off to get that fixed before tonight's run-thru.
Smokey and his girlfriend Isis engaged in the canine equivalent of heroin: raw beef bones. The marrow, the gristle... nothing else in the world will exist to them for the next 45 minutes.
VERY warm day for this time of year. Got the dog run out of the way early while it was still relatively cool. Getting measured today for my first bespoke suit. Much more to come on the blog about that. Also working with a political client to upgrade his suiting style. We have to keep it smart, somewhat conservative, competent, trustworthy and, of course electable...
As restaurant owner Louis Ramsford, about to be shut down by the Department of Health for violations. My scene partner was Boris McGiver, son of legendary character actor John McGiver ("Midnight Cowboy" and "The Manchurian Candidate").
On a lap through Salvation Army a couple of weeks ago, my eye was caught by this jacket. When I tried it on, it fit in the shoulders and chest, but needed to be taken in a bit in the middle. It cost $13.
I took it to the tailor across the street, who trimmed it up and cleaned it for me for $50. Now I have a new jacket that looks and feels amazing. It cost me a grand total of $63. Not bad.
En route to an early dinner at a friend's downtown, then possibly making a quick appearance at another gathering in the West Village. Hoping to get home before the ball drops...