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More often than not, I have found myself drawn to a woman's sense of style only to find out later that she was a tomboy in her youth. I like to think that it’s a testament to my affinity for menswear or the androgynous northeastern preppy aesthetic—maybe it's completely unrelated. I suspect it's not. There's actually a really good style blog on the subject: Tomboy Style. What Lizzie Garrett Mettler, its author, proposes is that a tomboy is more than just a girl raiding her father's musky closet...it's an attitude. While she has only been publishing her musings on tomboy style for two years, last Thursday she was signing copies of her new book on the very subject at the Rugby shop on University. It's a testament to her acumen on the matter, after all, it takes one to know one. Mettler (gladly) spent her youth in a blazer at Brooks School in North Andover, MA, became fast friends with a polished New Yorker by the name of Kingsley Woolworth, and played varsity field hockey.
In Tomboy Style, Mettler's witty and inviting method of storytelling leave no tomboy archetype unturned: the rebel, the sophisticate, the jock, the prep, the adventuress, the girl next door, and the naturalist are all illustrated by a bevy of historic and current images of (mostly iconic) women. The black and white photograph of a young androgynous Tilda Swinton between two horses is worth the price of admission ($32.50) alone. But don't just thumb through the pictures. There's a moment where Mettler, in describing "the naturalist," captures the purest essence of what I really appreciate in a woman...
“She is minimal, she is free, she is natural. Her skin is sun-kissed, her spirit is untamed, her beauty is as old as the Earth.”
Food is a beautiful thing. It brings people together. Its preparation is an expression from the heart. And I suppose that is where most great food comes from, the heart. Ricky Lauren's latest coffee table cookbook, The Hamptons: Food, Family, and History is certainly no exception. She recently signed copies for adoring fans at an exclusive signing event held at the women's mansion on Madison. Many members of the Ralph Lauren company (including a handful of out-of-towners traveling from as far as Houston, TX—loved seeing you ladies), as well as the entire Lauren clan, turned out to support the culinarian matriarch. Lauren frames her time-tested recipes within the four Hampton towns she has called home over the years. While appetite-inducing photographs inhabit practically every page, it's the recipes that will have you hankering. The Curried Butternut Squash-and-Apple Soup is a personal favorite of mine. And for summer? Brussels Sprouts Salad served at room temperature, without question. Despite it being a beautiful hardbound book, don't be surprised if you keep finding this one on the kitchen counter instead of the coffee table.
The signing was invite-only and hosted not only employees of Ralph Lauren but many media personalities over two nights
Last week I popped into the Gant Rugger shop on Prince Street to visit with some old friends and new while Daniel Cappello signed copies of his new book The Ivy League. While I had not formerly met Cappello until he was scrawling his name inside my cloth-bound copy, we discovered I had photographed him on the street earlier this year. He’s feeling daring tonight in royal blue slim cargo pants sobered up by a navy blazer and open button down collar. It's a good look.
“Harvard was one of the breeding grounds of classic Ivy style: that utterly effortless, nonchalant fashion affected by floppy-haired Andover and Exeter alums coming of age in a mix of relaxed athletic sportswear, crest-bearing navy blazers, khaki chinos, and striped repp ties.”
Many precedent books on the Ivy League were born out of admiration from the outside looking in, but Cappello’s homage is birthed from within a 375 year-old crimson crucible. Despite it being a beautiful coffee table book, it’s just not Ivy style eye candy. Cappello actually goes to great lengths to dust off obscure traditions—from all eight Ivies, not just his own Harvard—and share the unique character of each campus. The fact that he acknowledges the Ivy style of dress and yet presses deeper into the richness of these institutions of higher learning is fresher than a breath of Dartmouth air.
A drawing of the “Sweaters of the Ivy League” depicts letterman sweaters from the various Ivy League schools while poking fun at the so-called gentleman’s C, which many of the them issued in lieu of failing students from influential families.