I have a theory that elegant people have an aura of impenetrable private sadness, and that good taste and impeccable manners are life’s consolation. Perhaps they conjure sprezzatura, the Renaissance ideal…
Two roads really did diverge in a wood near the townhouse complex where I spent my ‘tween years. On one side of the road was suburbia: bland and uniform, dozens…
I always tell people I met Elana Mann by stalking her. Monkey-swinging from link to link to link one day, I encountered her website and developed a hardcore girlcrush.