Is it obnoxious for a forever-beginner-level yogi such as myself to show up to classes with a kind of flashy mat? Part of me thinks you have to do a pretty mean crow pose to make such a statement. But part of me doesn’t care—and that, of course, is the part I’m inclined to go with. Shopbop’s got a ton of really cool ones to choose from. Here’s option #1.
And here’s #2, which I like because it looks like a rug I might actually put in my home.
And from Anthro: this little slice of heaven, which is probably my favorite of all.
I am so totally falling down the Fornasetti rabbit hole.
Coolest dartboard ever.
Just such a cool and cheerful print.
It is nothing short of amazing—given how long I have coveted this Eames bird and how often I give in to my material desires—that it is not mine yet.
Splurgetastic but so good.
Surely I have posted about this Fornasetti owl candle before, right? It is just way too far up my alley for that not to have happened, no?
*Which is a reference to this classic bit.
A little lady power with your coffee?
If I’m not here to let you know that Liberty of London now makes tents, what am I here for?
At long last: a sugar bowl that even I—a serial breaker of sugar bowls—can’t destroy.
I don’t even need a new grinder, but I really need this grinder.
Once, my friend Nancy—who is something of a seeker and had for years eschewed traditional medicine in favor of ever-more exotic holistic and Eastern options—got a headache. Somebody offered her a couple of aspirin, and because it was a rather bad headache, she took them. The headache went away. “And I was like, Wow,” she remembers, “Western medicine is awesome.” The story amuses me, but it also resonates: sometimes in life, the best option is the one that appears the most prosaic. And I know I’m about to embark on an imperfect analogy, but this is very much how I’m feeling lately about coffee. My new favorite stop on the morning walk is the Mudpark kiosk right off First Avenue in the East Village. You can choose from the usual array here—Cappuccinos, Cortados, Americanos, and so on—but I always order up a large cup of old-school house blend. It’s wicked strong, but in a mild way that doesn’t turn your stomach inside out.
Today, I bought some beans so I can make it myself. And—because I haven’t owned an actual coffee maker since the Nespresso machine revolutionized my life a while back, I made another old-school move and acquired a Chemex drip coffee maker, which is not only a fantastic deal, but a really nice little piece of design.
Because it has stars on it, so of course I do.