My 12-year-old son (semi-)secretly thinks I’m a witch. Not like Hermione Granger, brilliant and heroic. But the real kind, wielding dark powers for nefarious ends. Like banning school-night TV football games, just because I can.
Maybe he’s on to something.
(by Sarah Burton for Alexander McQueen)
(by Eloise Corr Danch)
(by Jean Paul Gaultier)
From “Masters of Disguise,” at Vogue.com.
I’m in an infographic funk.
Nothing like a glossy, by-the-numbers profile to prove you’re a slouch.
I meant well. I really did. Five weeks ago, the October calendar was still a promising open field. Box after empty white box marched across my iCal screen. What a month it would be! I would write regular blog posts. I would curate a YouTube channel. I would catch up on my warehoused TED talks. I would drill through my new-book stack.
I would read and think and create in a snappy, 21st-century, new-media way, all month long. And I would walk, do yoga, organize my office, master my SLR camera, design a winsome family Christmas card, and archive my children’s art from the past school year. Plus I would add new dishes to my healthy meal repertoire, which I would serve my sons during peaceful, cultured weekday meals. Like Tory.
But October had its own ideas.
Snappy graphic, anyway.
No Real Plot. 