It’s mid-October, otherwise known as Indian summer—the schizophrenic time of year when girls wear their favorite Alice + Olivia frocks layered over their wool Tibi leggings, when coffee orders suddenly switch from iced to hot, and when certain people (you know who you are) still think it’s acceptable to bust out their Malia Mills bikinis and sunbathe in Sheep Meadow on weekend afternoons, hoping the pickup soccer game–playing St. Jude’s boys might notice.
According to historical legend, Indian summer was known as the time of year when tensions were especially high between natives and newcomers. And here on the Upper East Side, history seems to be repeating itself. Case in point? O and R, the former best guy buddies whose city bromance was one for the books, swam together, ran together, drank together—they seemed inseparable. And they were… until R caught O hooking up with his girlfriend. O got a bloody nose… and the girl. Now that O has completely stolen K from R, the two won’t so much as talk. Sad. I guess sharing isn’t caring, after all.
And that’s not the only skirmish we’ve witnessed this fall. The freckly-faced ballerina J and socialite-in-training A have already had territorial battles over everything from couture to classmate loyalty. And even though A seemingly gained ground when her sister B dated J’s ex, now B is flying solo and A is fighting solo. Good thing A is going to be spending her afternoons safely ensconced within glass-walled offices for her highly coveted media internship. And since J’s back with her boyfriend, maybe she can forgive and forget. Miracles can happen, right? And not just on Thirty-fourth Street?
So what to do if you’re feeling a chill in the air that’s not related to a dropping thermostat—one that can’t be fixed by your new DVF A-line herring-bone coat? Well, why not take a cue from one sparkly-eyed bohemian nymph and skip town? B has been avoiding stateside drama in favor of exploring the beaches, shops, and cafes of the Spanish seaside in Barcelona—solo. Is she second-guessing her hasty breakup with a certain Manhattan mogul-in-training, doing some soul searching, or looking for a certain Spanish boy who was recently visiting NYC? One thing’s for sure: She may be single, but she’s not alone. She’s been spotted all over Barcelona, constantly trailed by an army of admirers. Some girls have all the luck!
A at a newsstand on Seventy-second and Lex, picking up copies of Vogue, French Vogue, Italian Vogue, Harper’s, and Tatler. Boning up on the competition before her big Metropolitan internship? Or just making a really ambitious collage?… O and K making out next to a rack of chips at a bodega on Madison and Sixty-second. And on a bench in Central Park. And on the downtown 6 train. Either these lovers don’t know about secluded rooftop terraces, or they seriously get off on PDA…. The recently reunited J and J.P., sharing an Evian at Corner Bakery on Ninety-third, with J.P.’s three puggles in tow. R throwing dozens of ripped-up photographs into the East River, crying the whole time. Brings new meaning to drowning your sorrows… And a smiling B, on La Rambla in Barcelona, being catcalled by everyone in her path. Hola, bebé!
q: Chismosa,
I have heard a rumor of a beautiful brown-haired girl in Barcelona, looking for a man she met in New York. I believe that was me. Please to tell her that I am in Majorca, on my submarine, and I would love to see her.
—Latin Lover
a: Dear LL,
Sadly, I don’t know where your tousled bohemian beauty is either, but we’re hoping she comes home soon.
—GG
q: Dear GG,
I’m a senior at Barnard and I was supposed to score this amazing internship at Metropolitan, the legendary New York fashion mag that totally propelled the career of anyone who’s anyone in the industry? And suddenly I hear some girl who’s a junior in high school scored the internship? WTF? I guarantee you she doesn’t even know her Joan Didion from her Mary McCarthy. What’s wrong with this world? Seriously, I’m just about ready to give up on New York.
—editennui
a: Dear EE,
Unfortunately, sometimes it really is who you know, so maybe this girl had some legendary connections. But look on the bright side: Perhaps you don’t want to know those people anyway?
—GG
clothes call
These are strange days, where one morning it feels like you should be sunning in Sagaponack rather than slaving away at pre-calc, and the next it’s back to frigid. For my part, I’m off to Barneys to stock up on cozy TSE cashmere cardigans. You may not be able to control public opinion, but you can control your own comfort. No matter how cold it gets—or how icy your former besties are acting—don’t let it stop you from being hot.
You know you love me,
gossip girl