When I was a child, my best friend Beth and I loved to play a game called Teenagers. The object of the game was to act like teenagers and involved props (lip-gloss, pocketbooks). Beth always wanted her alter-ego to be nineteen, but I felt there was something brassy and garish about that number. For me,… Read more »
Who’s that petite single New York writer I keep seeing on TV with the fabulous sense of style? You know, the one with the rocking bod and kind of unconventional face who so breezily mixes glamour with sarcasm and wit? I think her name starts with a C… Meet Carole Radziwill—Emmy and Peabody-award winning journalist,… Read more »
I have a stockpile of “Almost Carrie” stories to tell, and I can’t post any of them. I’m stuck, stymied, silenced by the man. The “man” in this case being my husband, mother, boss, in-laws, sister, even my fellow Sex and the City guides. I’ve got a big piece of duct tape over both my… Read more »
