I love a trench, and I love a stripe, and I love a look that feels like it might be an Instagram ad for sunglasses/skincare/giant potted plants and ergo I suppose it makes sense that — although I don’t think I could identify R H-W if she bought the apartment upstairs, installed a verboten hot tub in the living room, and then crashed through my ceiling and into my lap — I am at home for this. Or, to be more specific, I guess I’m at the valet stand for it.

[Photo:  Michael Simon/startraksphoto.com]