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Red-Orange and the Spirit of Dorothy Draper.

So much has been going on during the past couple of weeks; it is now my duty to recapitulate. Time on the internet is always in the present.

Wednesday evening, the servers suddenly stopped working at work and I left the office to meet Van at the Five Napkin Burger near the 96th Street station on the 1. They have a happy hour where you can get sliders—including scrumptious veggie ones rich in beet flavor—for $2 each.

I was in the subway at Times Square; had taken a 3 train at Rector Street and was not sure if was running local. I looked out the window across the platform as a 1 had arrived and when I turned around, I was startled to see Van had appeared next to me.

He had just switched from the 1 to the 3, and as he was going to sit down, saw me sitting and quietly appeared next to me.

We got to the burger joint and on the way there, he complimented how my corduroy shirt, a gift from Paul, was the exact same color as the rouge women wore in the 30s...an orange-red color. I thought what a novel idea, as I looked into the lobby of Symphony Space.

We ordered our burgers and talked about how wonderful it is to be grateful for everything, including each other. A young woman who was sitting next to us joined in the conversation, she was telling us how she takes care of her grandmother and does her best to keep her away from candy and bread as she is pre-diabetic. I shared stories about caring for my mom, and Van did the same, and we all left with a warm and fuzzy feeling.

About an hour later, we headed over to Henry’s house to pick up the mail and stay there overnight. We stopped at Westside Market to pick up some yogurt, nuts and mineral water. I kept on thinking about the rouge from the 30s.

Because it had suddenly become gotten cold out, as it tends to happen during his early spring season, I had gotten out of the locker a cashmere poncho I had Felix make by adding a hole to a cashmere blanket Paul had given me in the 90s. I remember I had put this blanket in a drawer at some point in 2003 or so and didn’t take it out until some 10 years after, taking it the tailor to convert it into a poncho. (I had actually been inspired by a Peruvian poncho I had seen at Narnia, from a remote town in some faraway mountain that can only be reached by donkey. That poncho happened to be almost the same exact color as the cashmere blanket.)

I just loved how the poncho looked with the shirt and so I asked Van to take photos of my outfit at Henry’s, which has a decor that would make Dorothy Draper, one of my favorite interior designers, whose personality I adore, very happy.

And so I stood next to a door which Henry has decorated with two Scooter tees he had gotten at Patricia Field, black-painted walls, and an antique Liberty of London Egyptian stool which Van explained to me was produced by this favorite British department store of mine when in the 20s a craze ensued for Egyptian-styled furniture, inspired by the archaeological discoveries being made at that time in the Land of the Pharaohs. The stool is sitting on a rare antique Bakshaish rug which I absolutely love.

Along with the Polo corduroy shirt and vintage Banana Republic poncho-zed blanket, I was wearing a camándula bead necklace with an alligator tooth Tony gave me, a scapulary Scooter bought me at the Mexican shopping strip in Ocean Grove, Uniqlo thermal came pants I thought would carry me through the topsy-turvy weathered day, vintage Nike AF1 high tops I had bought with Bubi at a consignment shop on Broadway in Bushwick, and a Naadam/Knickerbocker cashmere baseball from The Lodge which I thought was lovely and luxurious along with the poncho, customized with an insignia Bubi brought me from Sicily.

Photos: 1, 3. Van Wifvat.