My poor sister is taking unnecessary criticism for this photo. While there’s no excuse for that hideous sweatshirt and hideous purse (why does something so small require so many zippers?), I sent her out for the ice cream (and Advil PM and a DVD of Julie Andrews singing “My Favorite Things” on a constant loop) to build up my west coast stockpile.
I can’t accurately predict where I’ll be when the Cambridge baby announcement strikes, and have you been watching them at the Olympics? It could happen any minute.
Vanity Fair, magazine of my life, is apparently now asking all of their interviewees for their thoughts and feelings about yours truly. Peter and Harry Brant, celebutants and possible lost members of One Direction, explained their adoration of me:
“She’s one of my idols,” he says. Both boys agree that Suri is something of a fashion guru. “And it’s all coming from her,” Harry remarks. “She’s always got some ’do. I love her hair.” “Clearly she’s just an awesome person,” Peter agrees. “And she always has some, like, sassy frog slippers.” Harry continues, “And, like, jammies in the restaurant.” Or as Peter remembers, “Didn’t she have some ladybug boots? I was like, I need those.” Harry knows the ones he means: “I have them in gray.”
While this is almost entirely accurate — the ladybug boots, the fashion guru remark, the overwhelming praise — I have to protest this “jammies in the restaurant” business, because I would never.
Taylor Swift is dating a Kennedy, which is basically awesome. I’m sure this will lead to a lot of really great songs about young love, disapproving families, and windswept sailing hair. It’s pretty much the most perfectly American thing I’ve ever seen.