Photographed in Los Angeles, CA
Photographed in Los Angeles, CA
The twisted tale of a Manhattan lavatory attendant begins in a borrowed Princeton blazer. It’s the 1950s. Tom Ripley, a young underachiever, weaves a tangled web of haunted obsession and yearning. In fact, the unabridged title The Mysterious Yearning Secretive Sad Lonely Troubled Confused Loving Musical Gifted Intelligent Beautiful Tender Sensitive Haunted Passionate Talented Mr. Ripley disturbingly sums it up. Although quite unsettling, the film’s portrayal of the endlessly romantic Italian landscape is fodder for the eye. Gary Jones and Ann Roth’s costume design is nothing short of inspiring. It’s an impeccable choice to silently project during your Summer backyard tea/garden party.
This is Maximilian Sinsteden’s dorm room. He’s a college senior. He’s already got clients.
The French/art history double major eschews minimalist decor in his embrace of the eclectic. But what else would you expect from the 21-year-old senior who was voted “preppiest in the class” at Choate Rosemary Hall? The standard-issue dorm furniture was immediately ushered into storage, walls immersed in Ralph Lauren’s Tapestry Green and Oriental rugs patch-worked over the linoleum floor. The result is a brilliant living space that beckons to be lounged in.
Read the entire article over at New York Magazine.
The black-watch throw is “from my grandmother.” Sinsteden is reading The Lover, by Marguerite Duras. The plaid pillows and bed linens are Ralph Lauren. The rugs hail from his family. The armchair is “a hand-me-down from a client.”
The standing lamp is IKEA. The wall is covered with artwork by him and his friends; paintings and documents from Jaipur and Bombay; a model from Charlotte Moss; and pieces collected from “tag sales, thrift and consignment stores.”
The curtains are from Sinsteden’s boss, Charlotte Moss. The tie-backs are repurposed ascots. Bow ties could achieve the same effect.
The tie rack is by Sinsteden’s father, with finials from P.E. Guerin. The chest of drawers is an $80 thrift-store find.
American dynasties are an anomaly in the extreme, and among them no family name stirs emotion over the past century as does that of Kennedy. We were reminded of this once more as the last surviving brother of the clan’s storied generation, Edward Moore Kennedy, passed on on August 25, 2009, at 77 years old.
Their story is iconic. You couldn’t have made it up; it’s a narrative in every sense as mythic and dramatic as the American dream itself—the ascension from poverty, the reign in Washington, the tragic deaths, the weekends in the Cape. They were not only prominent in politics, but in fashion. The Kennedys were the best dressed family America has ever witnessed. Their family portrait essentially sits next to “Ivy League style” in the fashion dictionary.
“I tell [my kids] that when they end this life, if they can count their friends on one hand, they will be lucky. Stick with family.”     —Joe P. Kennedy
Style weaved in and out of the Kennedy tapestry. Jackie O. was a style icon in her own right, rubbing elbows and summering in Lilly Pulitzer dresses, her friend and classmate from Porter’s. Jack, Bobby and Ted embodied the American look in their elegant, hardworking clothes that lasted decades, not just a season. Cable knit sweaters, polos, herringbone blazers, madras shorts—the Kennedys made history in these iconic pieces.
Photograph by Tec Petaja for Billy Reid
I am smitten with this photograph. It’s brilliant...inspiring. A preposterously dandy marriage between New England’s ubiquitous influence on Prep style and southern comfort. Billy Reid serves up this Southern sentiment in his bi-annual menswear collections that range from comfortably handmade suits and jackets to khakis that will outlive us all.
“I was raised in the South and I live in the South. So I guess my clothes do have that vibe.”    —Billy Reid