Good morning, Wednesday. The sun is shining here in New York and hopefully all this snow/ice noise will melt and we can finally wear good shoes again.
In other news, it's my style icon/spirit animal/rock and roll hero's birthday today. Happy birthday, Keith Richards. My love for you knows no bounds. You have inspired my style for many years (before there was ever boho chic there was you) and your elegant wastedom moves me to this very day; and don't even get me started on my love for your music.
Years ago on a photo shoot I asked the hairdresser for a trim- I told him I like to rock more of a Keith Richards vibe and he said "oh honey why not strive to look more like Anita and less like Keith?" It truly never occurred to me. Keith's hair during the Exile days is the high bar for me. I may go to my bobbed place but once I grow my hair out, it always ends up in some sort of homage to my hero. Keith, happy 70th to the coolest cat alive. No better way to celebrate your life than to put on my headphones, crank up some Stones, and share some of my photos of your signature style. That one at the top of the post? I will own you one day, and you will hang in my home over some sort of rigged up altar to your awesomeness. This much I know. And getting off a (private) plane with a white blazer, a bottle of Jack under one arm, some aviators, a fabulous hat, and THAT bracelet? Yes, don't mind if I do.
Cause that's what's up this gonna walk before they make me run/I know it's only rock and roll kind of Wednesday in the 212. Yours, in Keithness. XO