I am always delighted when I happen upon people who find the delicacy and balance of skeletons to be as fascinating as I do - This Japanese artist and former fisherman, Lori Tomita's dye injected specimens reveal in lurid detail the beautiful intricacy of organic structure. Pink never looked so swimmingly scientific !


This Saturday morning has been surprisingly wonderful. The wonder can be attributed to two things: 1. a funny little yard sale I stopped at on the way to work, where I found a blue penguin print polo shirt from the 50's that is just my size for $1, Oh joy! and 2. the farmers market across the street from my office that is only open on Saturday's. In this farmer's market I discovered some extremely luscious vegetables, and some delicious farmers. With all this attractive freshness I've been inspired to do a post on farmer's market food and fashion, but this will have to wait till next weekend as I forgot my camera today.

On the topic of Pink I would like to express my regard for the genius of Nars, in particular, the nail varnish color Bohemia. This is a new/old discovery for me, because, though I've been using this color on my fingers for a couple of years already, i have just discovered that if put on the toes and weathered for a week or two in the sand and the sun and whatever else one does with one's feet to get them a bit roughed up, then the varnish starts to fade and wear a bit thin and the most gorgeous patina comes through! Matte opalescence is proving to be far more stimulating to my consciousness than ever imagined. Life's private delights are all in the details, really.

There is one more secret summer delight that I'd like to share with you. It's called the Tate's Iced Latte. Here's the breakdown. It's an iced latte, but... they steam and froth the milk before pouring it over the ice so it's a wee bit warm and foamy and a way bit delicioso. The other part that makes my day, is that Tate's only offers one size. And it's a size large. Not having a choice in the matter is almost as refreshing as that first sip.


DAILY AFFLICTION: The agony of being connected to everything in the universe.
Andrew Boyd

I happened upon this little treasure of a book last night while roaming the wild streets of Sag Harbor with the one and only Rachael Faraone, world's greatest perspectifier, self proclaimed flaming clown, and talented legal jargon orater. Anyhoo, this book is rocking my world, mostly because I've never heard my particular brand of ironic sincerity so aptly described and justified. Today I am sharing a particularly poignant passage with you, dear purveyors of brilliance. I do hope you enjoy.


If you're going through hell, keep going.
-Winston Churchill

Meaningful personal growth rarely occurs without anguish, crisis, and loss. Maybe you're in a dead-end relationship or haven't come out to your parents. Or maybe you've got a secure job but always wanted to make it on your own. You need to change your life. But you're not going to make a move till things get a lot worse. In such a state, the only way forward is deeper into crisis.

Pushing yourself deeper into crisis is never easy. After all, it's only natural to resist permanent damage to your identity. But if you can bludgeon your resistance into submission, you can reach the point of no return. Past this point, you are fully committed to the crisis. With no way back, your once-idle doubts and speculations must crystallize into desperate convictions. With your consciousness polarized into a brawl of warring factions, your choices will at last lie clearly and unforgivingly before you.

The deeper my crisis, the clearer my choices.


The Herman Miller Aeron chair was generously given to me as a gift a few years back. Bulky and techy looking, it was slow to grow on me... i believe I compared it's transformer like appendages to those of a tarantula. I gave it back to the gift giver at one point, claiming it did not resonate with my naturally spare aesthetic. A few months later, my behind at odds with a naturally spare and agonizingly uncomfortable sorry excuse for a chair, I surreptitiously reclaimed The Aeron. It is clear to me now, there is more here than meets the eye.

I apologize to you, Aeron Chair, for ever doubting your taught techiness and arachnic functionality. My physiology would like to thank you for standing by and never judging the fickle tendencies an ever evolving aesthetic Goldilocks. A parting thought though: perhaps Mr. Miller, you would consider offering a florid pinkish version of The Aeron chair to the masses. It could be the Pepto Bismol of designer office chairs.
Nothing like a little chemical colored sugar to help the medicine go down. (Said with only the slightest hint of irony.)


I'm honored to have been a recent contributor to dear friend, Max Wastler's "Things My Father Taught Me" series. Read the full article here on All Plaidout.

My father, Michael P. Reilly.

One morning I shot an elephant in my pajamas. How he got into my pajamas I'll never know. Groucho Marx

Photo and color code by moi.


I believe in manicures. I believe in overdressing. I believe in
primping at leisure and wearing lipstick.
I believe in pink.
I believe happy girls are the prettiest girls. I believe that
tomorrow is another day, and...
I believe in miracles.
Audrey Hepburn


I'm back in action.

Sorry for the long hiatus, life reorganization took priority for a bit. Feeling strong now though, and starting us back out with this money honey.

Does summer fab get better than this?

Um... NO.

Take heed.