We’ve all been wandering around in the wet and the ick for days now in New York. It really is bringing out the glamourpuss in everyone. I, for one, know I never feel foxier than when my hair is locked in the kind of perma-frizz mode from which no quantity or combination of products can free it. In fact, my only hope for walking out the door with even a shred of dignity is to throw on my Kangol bucket hat (which doubles nicely as an umbrella when it’s just kind of endlessly drizzling, as it has been, endlessly). Then I’ll layer on maybe more bronzer than usual, along with a strong, distracting layer of lip color, and hope for the best.