There's No Glitter in the Gutter, There's No Twilight Galaxy

We've hit the middle of summer and I have yet to do so many things I told myself I would: ocean skinny-dipping at night, finishing The Fountainhead, mastering the poached egg, hosting a fancy terrace dinner party, and for that matter, decorating my terrace with plants and tables and actual places to sit. Oh well. There's always August. 

In the meantime, at the very least, my terrace is a good place for wearing ensembles that would never see the light of day otherwise. Take, for instance, this itty bitty Miu Miu bra top that's been stashed in a bottom drawer since last June. In concept, it's adorable. In practice? Not so much. Unless my goal is an indecent exposure rap. Just goes to show that runway really doesn't always translate so well to realway. But that's what the terrace is for. I'm wearing a Rebecca Taylor skirt, Jessica Simpson shoes and a stack of friendship bracelets, mostly from Montauk. Photos by my fave shutterbug, Mark Iantosca. xo