Nothing chases the cranky away quite as effectively as a visit from out of town friends. And because this weather had been seriously bringing me down (is there anything worse than a hot breeze?) my coffee Tuesday with the fantabulous Heather Cocks and Jessica Morgan, a.k.a. the Fug Girls—who are in town to promote their new YA novel— could not have been more well-timed. I’ve gone on about The Fugs’ vast talents before, so I won’t get all slobbery again. But in addition to loving their work, I truly love them. They’re clever, warm, down to earth and just delightfully pop culture-obsessed creatures. This makes a date with them one happy, manic conversational puddle-jump through topics that range from clothes to work to books to TV to—of course—celebrity gossip and tons of it.
We met at one of my neighborhood’s more charming-but-ineptly-run cafes— the type of place where, if you order anything more complicated than wine or cappuccino, you have only yourself to blame for whatever disaster ensues. Within the first two minutes, we touched on the awesomeness of hair extensions; what exactly the dirt is that Katie has on Tom; and our unanimous surprise that Andy Griffith had not in fact died some years ago—and the conversation just zigged along from there. At a certain point I realized that our cute-but-less-than-ept waiter had not understood what is meant by the word decaf, and things started feeling very tweaky indeed, because just being with the Fugs is a very caffeinating experience in the first place. But indeed, because the Fugs are in fact so pedal-to-the-floor, I’m fairly certain they didn’t notice.
The girls had a lunch date in the East Village, so after our coffee we strolled down Bleecker Street, which was a straight shot to their destination, Prune. (By the way, did any of you read Blood Bones & Butter, the memoir by Prune’s chef, Gabrielle Hamilton? What did you think? Did you love it, but kind of hate her, as did I?)
Afterward, I popped in to Rogan—where they’re having a pretty good sale—and Oak, where they’re not. It didn’t matter. It was too hot to even consider trying on clothes anyway.
So it was off to John Derian, a place I never tire of visiting and where I could spend untold thousands of dollars, were I in the market to spend untold thousands.
I wish there was (a lot) more commerce on the John Derian website so we coud all share together in the many and varied wonders of the place. I love the dry goods store he opened next to his original shop a few years ago. It’s full of things you’d feel guilty buying for yourself but would love to receive as gifts, like beautiful lightweight kurtas, and bright cotton napkins in the prettiest floral prints. And tons of vintage Moroccan rugs.
Also, these Jeanette Farrier throws.
And these linens and pillows and such by Lisa Corti, all of which might be more than my home could handle, but which make me very happy to look at all the same.
What you can purchase on his site—and browse through forever because there are so many to choose from—are all those fantastic decoupage pieces like this very pretty insect-y one. (I maxed out years ago on John Derian decoupage plates and won’t let myself buy any more of them.)