joined jacob and david for a brief and fragrant trip to the met on sunday afternoon – brief because jake was on his way back to penn state, and fragrant because 1) new york has been a sweltering pit for the past week and a half and 2) everyone who stopped by the chanel exhibit either emptied a bottle of no. 5 over their heads or, being french, came as god perfumed them (i refer you again to the weather). the exhibit itself reminded me that even the very best tweed suits have a dowdy vibe, and that swap meet chanel and please hammer, don't hurt 'em are both karl lagerfeld's fault. the met's swanky new duccio, in turn, reminded me that i can't handle religious art for more than five minutes without dissolving into giggles. i mean no disrespect, but the babies get me every time.
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