This afternoon, I was sitting on a bench on Houston Street when I suddenly noticed I was being photographed by what looked (by the camera and general appearance) to be a professional photographer. This was either because my chambray shirt, Target wayfarers, white jeans, and silver clogs (and, uh, tote bags) combo was awesome, or it was for a spread on poorly-executed trends, disheveled grad students, or something else of the fashion-don'ts persuasion. The fact that the man simply took the pictures and continued on his way suggests the latter possibility.
Friday, May 07, 2010
Fame, shame, notoriety
Posted by Phoebe Maltz Bovy at Friday, May 07, 2010
Labels: lives you could only dream of
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