Leandra Medine's Blog, page 682

Ho-ho-horoscopes

This month is gonna rule, guys. (Except that Susan Miller doesn’t want anyone to travel on December 24th, bla bla bla, just listen to her and be thankful you’re not the one trying to make a bunch of reindeer fly in no-service zones with shoddy GPS signals.) Ready?

Sagittarius

Happy Birthday to you, sweet Sagittarius. I know the holidays can feel super annoying because you’re like, “Hey guys, I was born this month too, you know.” Well guess what, eggnog head plus Leandra? Now you can feel extra special because — according to the One and Only Susan Miller — “for the first time since 1985 to 1988, Saturn will tour Sagittarius.” Your birthday this year is practically historic! What does that mean, though?

Well, Suzanna says that whatever you accomplish with Saturn stays with you for a lifetime. Work hard now and start achieving your dreams, because you’re in the sweet spot to do so. You may pop out a baby! (Not in the “OMG WHAT IS THIS THING?” sense but like, if you’ve been trying, it could happen now, and babies DEFINITELY stay with you a lifetime.) Or, you might do a lot of other cool stuff like become an astronaut or a human bagel. Saturn pushes you hard, and you may not actually see the benefits until 2017. This is sort of confusing because I think kids are less cute at age 2 than they are as hot-potatoes, but when it’s your own kid you’re probably way more excited about a baby that can run around than one who makes you hold his head up all the time. Babies are divas, huh?

And if you’re not into all this baby talk, Susan basically says this whole month’s going to be awesome and that on December 12-13, you’ll have “great fun and enjoy a touch of luxury.” Sounds like caviar and cheese sticks to me!

Capricorn

Apparently Saturn in Scorpio’s been holding your friendships hostage like a big freaky cult leader, but all of that is going to change. Turn your phone’s ringer on silent, because all of those who moved to Antarctica or were in a coma or whatever it is that friends are doing when they can’t hang out are going to come back into your life and start blowing you up (in a good way!), and the reason I suggest you turn your phone on silent is so that you’re not the pinging asshole at a meeting or in the theater.

You’re gonna spend a lot of money this month (probably because all your friends are coming back and friendship is the most expensive shoe that money can buy). That’s okay because A) who isn’t and B) you’re also going to get some good news that comes out of nowhere, like a pimple filled with glitter. Speaking of glitter! On New Year’s Eve, $uz writes, “the transiting moon will be in Taurus, lighting your house of love and romance. Now THIS is a New Year’s to celebrate!”

Aquarius 

Don’t click here if you hate fun! Now let’s focus: “Your ruling planet Uranus will be a virtual chatty Cathy,” writes You Know Who (hint: Susan Miller), “meeting here and there and everywhere with a number of other planets and stirring up surprises, opportunities, and breakthroughs.” Sounds like you’re going to be living la vida Boca Raton this month, to me.

Apparently today, December 4th, is supposed to be great for you, and Susan thinks you should hop town now for a long weekend getaway. (She mentions a ski resort but I hold ground re: Boca.) This weekend will also be a time for romance, which means if you’re metaphorically or legally hitched, cool, and if you’re single as a Pringle then get the hell out of the house and find an ugly sweater party STAT. Nothing says, “Wanna make out for the rest of our lives?” quite like one giant cable knit with two neck holes.

Pisces 

Apple Pie-sces, great news. Dollar-sign-for-an-S-usan says that December will be the most important month you’ve had/will have all year, since Saturn will leave your ninth house on Dec 23 and “release you from the tension you have faced since October 2012.” I wonder if you’ll meet a very handsome masseuse.

I also wonder if you’re feeling rather rich today, because apparently you’re supposed to come into some money on this very day of December 4th. I recently Christopher Columbus’d a fantastic not-new-show called Downton Abbey and personally keep waiting for a 12th-removed-cousin of mine to die (RIP) and then make me an heir, hold the -ess. I’m a Taurus not a Pisces so this is looking far more likely plausible for you than I. Say! Would you like to form a legal bond of some sort?

Aries 

I’ve gone 4 whole signs without making a butt joke and I’d be utterly remiss if I went any further. You don’t mind, do you? Tomorrow, December 5th, the full moon in Gemini will receive a happy beam from Uranus — talk about a TGIF #AMIRIGHT. (There will also be a beam from Jupiter but Jupiter means nothing to me as far as innuendos go.) Aside from the implications I just mentioned, this will be a romantic time for you per Susan the Planetsmith Miller. (Note that this type of moon-related prediction can actually span four days plus or minus the day it appears, so really, Uranus is going to be beaming up all kind of sparkly shit until what, the 10th?)

It’s a really good time to travel, and also, a great time for bargains! If I were you — and I just might be, although you wouldn’t know it because I’m super stealth when I possess someone — I would get my little fingers going and log on to all those websites that have fun commercials about cheap flights, and then go somewhere awesome. On a brainier note, “Anything having to do with your quest for higher education or research will do well for you.” Hit the books and you’ll reach the stars! That’s what I always say!

I’m not drunk.

Taurus 

We can kind of write our own stories, really, once Susan has given us the guidelines of the stars’ intentions, and so with that, because Taurus is my sign, allow me to take some creative liberties. Because this month is looking to bode extremely well in the way of new jobs, promotions, offers, winks, hints, grand career achievements and under the table notes that say things like, “Hey come work for me I’ll make you a billionaire!,” yadda yadda, you fellow Taurusii will likely land your dream job and I, because I work at Man Repeller and can’t leave, will probably just have to deal with accepting a Lordship or something as a side job.

She also notes that we’ll be very charismatic this month (what else is new) and recommends her usual tips about getting blowouts and beard trims and whatnot. Like we have to be told twice to pay a stranger to wash our hair, Susan.

We’re going to be busy, pretty, and just the right amount of champagne fizzy this December, fellow bull riders. I’ll bring the chaps, you bring the cowboy hats and let’s hang on until the weekend.

*See concluding sentence of Aries.

Gemini

Re: the concluding sentences of both Taurus and Aries, I may be lying, which means I in no way feel like being a downer so I’ll just get out with this quickly and then on to the fun stuff: December 15th looks like it’s going to be a really annoying day regarding money and health. You might be tempted to loan money to a friend (don’t) and you might need surgery (here’s hoping it’s only on your American Girl Doll who you still sleep with and she just needs a new head or something). If it’s not, just trust your doctor. Susan says you’ll be fine.

After the 15th, however, it’s looking like rain-down-money-city for you, so I picture your life to look a lot like the snapchat filter on Wall Street, which is so festive.

“If you celebrate Christmas,” writes Susan, “you will have fun on this day. The moon will be in Aquarius – perfect for you – and there is likely to be some sort of electronic wrapped up under the tree with your name on it. Yay!” And if you don’t, writes Amelia, then you will probably still have fun on this day because no one will bother you on email and maybe it will snow and you can jump around like a Labrador with your tongue out and cry things like, “Good golly Miss Molly, is it cold!”

Cancer

Guess what, sugar crab? December’s a cute month for you. You may get a rai$e (the roof, am I right?), or if you’ve been negotiating for better health insurance, vacation days, legroom etc, you’ll get it. “These aspects are as rare as diamonds,” writes the Suz, and she couldn’t be more correct.

“Wait! There’s more!” she continues. (I am but her messenger.) On December 5, Mercury will “create a trine to Uranus in your tenth house of fame, so clearly, in December you will be batting one home run right after another. December 5 would be the day to make a presentation or sales pitch to a top client. You are likely to be articulate, authoritative, and persuasive, and with Uranus, the planet of unexpected developments, supportive to Mercury, ruling news, you may have something to celebrate soon!”

Good lord she doesn’t stop with you this month, does she? December 20th is going to be another great time for you as far as a vibrating Uranus goes, which means good things in terms of you becoming famous or getting good grades or shaking it like a salt shaker (tbt).

“Uranus will give the month a spicy, fun, unexpected tone, and it will be one you will enjoy.” Sounds like you can eat all the Indian food you want this month, Cancer.

Leo

Obviously Susan opens up your sign by signing your praises because she’s obsessed with Leos: “As a Leo, you love the social side of life. You are sophisticated, with refined taste and quick wit. You also are gregarious, have a great sense of humor, and tend to be well read, and that makes you a great conversationalist. It’s easy to see that you would be an asset at any gathering. It looks like you will be invited to a marvelous holiday party over the full moon as the month opens, on December 6, plus or minus four days.”

Maybe she buttered you up because she was getting ready to parlay into another point: that she thinks this month is going to be all about fitness for you. Snooze. (Tip: Don’t Instagram it.) Maybe you want to wear a see-through sparkly dress a la Rihanna-at-the-CFDAs that one time and need to be in tip top post-Thanksgiving shape, though, I don’t know. Or maybe by fitness she means…fitness pants, which translates to stretch-city USA, if you ask me. And you did.

To conclude this babbling brook:

“New Year’s Eve brings the transiting moon to Taurus, so you may be ringing in the New Year socializing with executives you know from work, or, because Uranus will be bursting with energy, you may instead ring in the New Year from distant shores.”

Virgo

“From now on,” writes Susan, “and continuing for the lion’s share of the coming three years (the only exception being…June 14 to September 17, 2015), you will be focused on your home.” This means you might be getting serious about buying a house (wanna buy me one too, please?) or decorating (see Libra’s sign below, maybe you two can accompany $uz so she stops bugging me about it).

Because of Saturn being annoying in regards to “sacrifice” so that you “concentrate on a goal” (like no video games or something?) you may take it easy on the Seamless to save money. Although maybe that’s for the best. “I just read a statistic that was a bit scary,” writes Susan or Leandra, I can’t be sure on this one: “When any of us eat out, we eat an average of 200 more calories than we would have consumed at home, and this was true with every meal. I bet that number is on the low side, considering how much excess butter, oil, and cream is added to the average restaurant dish.” Ugh. HEALH. This is not the month for it, mom.

Just kidding Susan and Leandra! I meant: Yay! Health!

As for some truly good news: your love life is going to be all up in the damn flames of heavenly hugs. Swipe right, swipe right, swipe right.

Libra 

Ok don’t panic. You may be hosting guests at your house at some point during the holiday season. I pray for your sanity that they do not overstay their welcome, that they make their beds and respect shower schedules. Susan also hints that you may be in search of the perfect piece of furniture, because it’s not a Susan Miller Horoscope without her in some way hinting that she would like someone to accompany her to either Home Depot or West Elm. Why she can’t just go alone, I do not know, Libra. I do not know.

Sounds like the 6th may bring a trip for you — a rather spontaneous one — all because Uranus is at a twerking angle which will shower you with surprises. She thinks you might even go to New York (come say hi!) or Paris or you know, something casual, like Gstaad.

The same full moon that got Uranus all hopped up on Beyoncé’s “7/11″ may have other treasures for you as well, says Susan, although I must admit I’m paraphrasing just a little in terms of Bey. You’ll be wrapping up a lot of stuff up this month: work things, presents, mummies, which must be such a nice, satisfying feeling. Before you go, though! Apparently 2 days ago was a really serious day for love for your sign. Since I didn’t get a text from you, please holla at your girl in the comments below and confirm or deny.

Scorpio

As for you, my Scorpion Queens, this will be an amazing month for your career. You’re going to come into money, have a party, go to a hoedown and feel divine. And guess what else you’ll do? TRAVEL. (Just not on December 24th because Susan is telling everyone to avoid this day.) Why travel though, other than the fact that you probably have cabin fever in your own city and going somewhere new is an excuse to pretend your credit card bill doesn’t actually exist? Because romance will be linked to it. Per our girl: “Venus will go into Capricorn, a sign that blends well with yours, on December 10, and remain there until January 3.” Sounds like someone is going to have a holiday hook up.

A very, very important note on said travel: bring your cell phone, and make sure your data plan/international services are good to go. Your career is on fire this month, and you may just get a certain email from someone who is trying very hard to reach you to tell you that you’ve either just been chosen to appear on the upcoming season of Game of Thrones Meets the Bachelor or, more notably: “it could be the job of your dreams.”

Illustration by Cynthia Merhej 

How Soon is Too Soon to Break out the Holiday Tinsel?

You either enter the day after Thanksgiving in a shame-spiral of carbs, OR: you bust into the 26th of November with both arms pushing open the French doors of your balcony-as-a-metaphor-for-life and, while simultaneously dropping enough tinsel to make a silver hula skirt for the earth’s circumference out onto the street below, you take the deepest breath you can inhale and in the exhale you cry, “IT’S THE MOST WONDERFUL TIME OF THE YEAR!”

You either cover your ears and glare when Jerry in the cubicle over makes the decision on behalf of the entire office to switch the communal floor radio to 98.3, The Jingle Bell Station, OR: you are Jerry, your dream job is to deejay said station and you’ve been pre-gaming with Mariah Carey’s “All I Want For Christmas” since like, July of ’97.

You either relish like a kosher hot dog in the pure joy of being alone on a cold night with a cup of alcohol-infused tea and a backlog of “American Horror Story” to catch up on, put your phone on Airplane Mode and pretend to have a violent cold in so that you’re left the hell alone, or: you co-lament with friends about how you’re single during Cuffing Season, which is really a shame only because you’d rather go ice skating with the same person you’re sleeping with as opposed to Becky, who always shows off with her crappy double-axels and white skates.

Without inadvertently causing a divide among the population, regardless of what you technically celebrate  you’re either one of two people: those who treat the 26th through the first half of December like any other regular old time of year while muttering about the unnecessary speeds in which consumerism moves when it comes to forcing the calendar’s clock’s hands or: you’re the early riser of the holiday world and the end of Thanksgiving marks fair game to begin celebrating THE HOLIDAYS.

So. Which one are you, and how soon is too soon?

Image on the left via Neiman Marcus’ holiday catalog, image on the right shot by Mark Pillai for 10 Magazine

Portrait of a Woman by TOME

The intersection of fashion and art has, through the establishment of Miami’s annual Art Basel, authenticated itself in such a salient capacity that you’re more likely to come across a designer you recognize than you are, say, a fine artist.

In addition to the manifold luncheons and dinners that have been, and will continue to be, sponsored by magazines and brands, one particular initiative, launching tomorrow in South Beach, seems capable of lending all the salt necessary to actualize the worth of the aforementioned junction.

New York-based ready-to-wear label, TOME, with its voluminous culottes and quiet-though-distinct poplin blouses (a champion of simultaneous male-gaze-deflection and female-form-championship) is debuting the first in a series of short films called A Portrait of Woman that will feature women integral to “the TOME story.”

The first installment will give prominence to Iran-born artist, Shirin Neshat, who is perhaps most recognized for her work on the vicissitudes of female life within Islamic culture. On working with the artist, TOME founder Ryan Lobo said, “Of the long list of women who have inspired us, Shirin Neshat is one very close to our hearts. I have been obsessed with her for more than half my life so when we met her over a year ago it was truly an art student fantasy come true! Ramon [Martin, co-founder] also instantly fell in love with Shirin’s duality — a sweet demeanor and a devastating intellect, incredible warmth with sharp political critique, genuine sincerity and fierce strength.”

On the process of starring in a video recreationally, as opposed to for her art, Neshat said, “It’s always complicated when an artist not her art becomes a subject for the public eye. How to share the artist’s obsessions, life style and rationale without the risk of demystifying or exaggerating the artist’s characteristics. It is then about the measure of trust that occurs between the artist and he or she whom tells her story…and in that my love and respect for TOME made me lose my hesitations.”

Feature image shot by Rad Hourani

MARSALA: Pantone’s Official Color of 2015

We have waited with bated breath for long enough. MARSALA has been announced as the official color of 2015 by the Official Color Announcer of the Year, Pantone. (It’s rumored that Essie pushed hard for the name “No Wine or Reason” instead, but the Society of Cheeky Moms-on-a-Cruise already had the copyright.)

As it’s still only 2014, you’ll have to forgive us for the fact that e-tailers have yet to update their color options to include the elusive “Marsala.” Dedicated journalists that we are, however, we pulled together an extensive collection of inspiration images to get you excited for the new year’s even newer color that is sure to flatter all skin tones and influence outfits for seasons to come. What an exciting time this is! Ladies and Marsalas, you can now exhale.

A Guide to Finding the Right Vintage Denim 501s for You

First thing’s first: Embrace the imperfect. If you’re drawn to vintage denim, you’re likely already okay with this idea but it’s good to keep in mind that trying on vintage denim is going to feel different from new denim. Because these jeans have lived full lives before you, each pair will have a unique wash, wear and level of distress/detail.

Wash is the second thing to consider when narrowing your search. If you’re getting your first pair, I’d recommend something in a faded light blue (easiest to find) or a pair with great highs and lows, meaning you can see that the denim color has faded to a lighter blue in some areas, like the front of the legs and around the pockets. Both of these washes will give the pants a distinctly vintage denim feel that is hard to replicate with modern washes. Once you have a wash in mind, you can quickly bypass the pairs that don’t fit your preference.

Wear is about how the jeans will fit. If you’re combing through a rack of vintage Levi’s 501s, do not trust the size on the label. Because each pair has been worn differently, it’s best to measure the waist and the inseam of the denim. (This is primarily if you can’t try them on.) The fit guide on my website suggests that you measure the region of your body where you’d like the jeans to sit (just below your belly button? Lower on your hips?) and then measure the waistband of the jeans to find a match.  You can also do a quick check for fit by holding the waistband around your neck like you’re putting on a huge denim necklace. If the waistband overlaps at the back of your neck, they’re worth trying. If the ends don’t touch, they’re likely too small.  The inseam determines how long they are.

The level of distress is really what makes a pair of vintage denim feel one of a kind. If you’re not into a lot of tear, look for a pair that’s been lovingly patched or has a few paint marks. My favorite detail is a back pocket that has a wallet or round chewing tobacco fade. Another thing to look for is a selvadge edge finish on the inside of the jeans. This is where the denim has been cut along the edge of the fabric roll. It creates a nice detail on the outside seam when they’re cuffed. This also typically means the jeans are older and better quality so expect to pay more for this rare detail.

The Rose Bowl Flea Market in Pasadena is a good place to search for vintage denim, and you can find them starting at $20. While the offerings are more limited, you can even try searching Etsy.com under “vintage Levis 501s.” What you pay for vintage denim is at your discretion, though, and the range is quite wide because they can be collectable. I have pairs that I love that I’ve gotten for $8 and others for around $250.  Because they’re one of a kind and considered “a forever piece,” the most important rule, ultimately, is to let your heart be your guide.

Hillary Justin is the founder of Bliss and Mischief, a bad ass website that sells reworked vintage wear. Leandra is wearing a Rosie Assoulin top, Roger Vivier clutch and Celine shoes in look #1 and a St. James shirt, Isabel Marant sneakers and J. Crew socks in look #2. 

DILFS of Disneyland

We’re no strangers to the Hot Dad. Remember Handsome Hair Holderness? Remember Coach Taylor?

What about Sandy Cohen, Bradley Cooper in The Hangover II or Dennis Quaid in his multitude of dad-ly roles?

We don’t throw-back-Thursday our own fathers out of the goodness of our hearts. Theirs genes gave us our good looks, after all. Without hot dads there would be no hot kids. And a fantastic new Instagram, DILFS of Disneyland, celebrates just that.

An alternate title could have been: Good Looking Dads with Beards and Tattoos Playing with Their Kids at the Sweatiest Place on the Entire Planet.

I actually hate Disneyland. I find cartoon characters brought to life via actors who thought they’d be on Broadway by now to be anxiety provoking. My shins have a tendency to ache when I’ve been standing for more than half a minute which rules out the whole two hour long line thing, spinning teacups make me barf and no offense, but the roller coasters there are for babies. But isn’t this exactly why Instagram was invented? So that one (me) can peer into the window of a door she wouldn’t otherwise step foot in?

The whole thing is voyeuristic, really.

 

And yet it doesn’t feel creepy.

It’s a celebration, really, of good looking dads and the manifestation of their generous abilities to disseminate that.

Of course, though, it should go without saying that behind every dilf is an incredibly talented woman for whom said man owes everything.

Etc.

Flowchart: How to Style Sneakers

It is always fascinating to hear young women exclaim that they are not “sneaker people.” To say that seems unequivocally parallel to saying you’re not a “food person” or that you’re not into sleeping on a bed because you really prefer cement surfaces. Does she-who-withholds-from-trainers truly not enjoy the notion of walking around in lace up clouds? It seems doubtful. Maybe she just doesn’t feel like a sneaker person because sneakers, and because even though they are the physical manifestation of comfort, they can also appear vaguely difficult to pull off.

Maybe you feel stocky, or like whatever minute height offered from a pair of shoes-proper is better for your morale, but thanks in large part to the proliferation of sneakers among denizens of the upper echelons of fashion, the choice shoes are now also quite difficult to avoid. You might think that wearing them with a dress is a style choice reserved predominantly for your friend from Bushwick — that you couldn’t be the girl who wears her Breton stripes with tennis shoes because you don’t know how to play tennis, or that blazers and cropped trousers with rubber soles are for the commuting woman of 1985 but frankly, you might just be rejecting a movement out of fear that if you don’t, it will reject you.

So let’s not fight a God-given right to embody Empire of the Sun’s “Walking on a Dream” and instead work through ways to make three particular sneaker styles — the brainchildren of PUMA’s second collaboration with the inimitable Solange Knowles — seem further digestible. We’ll do it together the good, old-fashioned Man Repeller way — with a flow chart.

Images courtesy of Puma shot by Paul Jung, illustration by Charlotte Fassler.  Written in partnership with PUMA, now available at MadisonStyle.com.

A World within Morocco

Being in Marrakesh was like walking through legs.

When you’re young and consequently short, the sidewalk moves even faster than the crowd; you have to scurry between other people’s strides and scuffle about their fast moving feet while keeping one arm raised so high that your armpit could split as the adult in charge grips your hand from above. Noises pour in from every angle and words you don’t understand get further muddled by smells you can’t identify. It’s a rush of pant fabrics and skirt hems (“you can’t see the trees when you’re in the forest” proves true), and the whole thing is jostling if not colorful, quick and claustrophobic.

Exactly like Marrakesh.

My grasp seemed to steady a bit when we left the city for Essaouira, a beach town right on the coast of Morocco. If you look at it on a flattened map and put a pin on its port, a very focused ant could walk straight on over to South Carolina.

It was calmer there. Everything seemed stretched out and lazy, a change from the foreign metropolis we’d left three hours away. Without all the surrounding noise, it was easier to understand that while Morocco was visually stunning, I’d been looking at it through small tunnels. Through crowds and seas of legs.

Here, out in the open, were crumbling walls that first through a romantic lens appeared lovely, and then through a more cynical one, old.

The town was filled with buildings that, from the outside-in, appeared as cold clay fortresses. From the road one couldn’t possibly imagine that what he or she was about to enter was lush and warm and at times, palatial, but the beach town’s quiet allowed me to absorb the whole picture. It felt more authentic this way, but in no way less remarkable.

The largeness of Morocco made me kind of mute. You know when you’re in a room with someone and their personality is so big that you feel like you can be completely quiet without being rude? That was Morocco. If it were a person, it would be a hand talker, the kind who whacks your knee to signal the punchline and touches your elbow and wears a lot of rings to make their fingers speak even louder. My mom and our guide frequently asked if everything was okay because I hardly said a thing, but everything was fine. It was amazing, and beautiful, and a little scary and confusing. For the first time in a long time, I felt tiny, acutely aware that there was so much to absorb I couldn’t handle forming the words.

It was like being five again when the world was still so much bigger than me.

Fashion Tip: This Holiday Season, Throw Your Sequins Off

Last night, I spoke on a panel at Barnes and Noble in Tribeca but because I was attending a holiday party followed by a dinner, I couldn’t wear my Tribeca mom PTA look so I settled on what Amelia has called holiday neutral dressing, which she believes maintains an interesting dexterity to throw everyone — even your lavish embellishments and gleaming sequins — off.

I know what you’re thinking: holiday neutral? You mean gender neutral, right?

But no!

You’re wrong!

While yes, I do like to believe this is precisely what Annie Hall would have worn had she been speaking on a panel as an author and then attending a holiday party at a venue where the human to chandelier ratio is more or less 1:1, followed by dinner at a dingy-though-decidedly delicious restaurant in the East Village, the magic (if you’ll be so generous as to call it that) is actually in an unwitting balance that meets at an intersection where the coupling of black and white prosper and a pair of pumps is only as impressive as its corresponding turtleneck.

Confused?

WHY?

WHAT DID I SAY TO CONFUSE YOU?

Let me break it down. Men wear tuxedos to weddings, right? They are, by definition, “black tie.” When women wear tuxedos, no matter how flexible (black wool pants with a velvet vest and the same turtleneck you’ve been wearing all day? Yeah! That’s a tux! Why not?), they can be similarly deemed “black tie” but only when placed in the appropriate setting. So at the Plaza, yeah, sure, you’re wearing black tie. But when released into the wild, your tux is a chameleon and you are its keeper. In Soho, you might be a writer in a turtleneck. At dinner in Murray Hill, you’re just a displaced New Yorker experimenting with your dosages of black clothing. By the New York Stock Exchange, you could be the only broker worth knowing. And in the Meatpacking District? You’re a disco ball on quaaludes. Make sense?

Okay, how about this: you will never be “inappropriately” dressed in an improvised tuxedo, so wear one — the month of December demands so many thematic forms of party-wear. Or, you know, just respect the mantra that if you can’t beat them, confuse them.

Wolford turtleneck, Rosie Assoulin vest, Mina & Olya pants, Manolo Blahnik pumps, Olympia Le Tan box bag

Never Never Land

The name Peter has a reputation. Those who carry it have complexes about growing up.

Most famously, there’s Peter Tork of the Monkees.

Perhaps second most famously, Peter Pan.

Third: Peter Griffin of Family Guy, who doesn’t have a complex so much as he does a childlike sense of wonder compounded with the permanent side effects of eating too much paste as a first grader.

Last but certainly not least, there is Dr. Peter Prentice: OBGYN, two-time Dartmouth graduate (undergrad and medical school), nurse practitioner of print mixing and absolute spoon.

When Mindy discovers that Peter lives in a bro cave with at least three other guys (one nicknamed, “Pube” and the other, “Bush”), zero kitchen appliances and approximately two lacrosse sticks, she encourages him to get a big boy apartment.

He agrees after falling asleep and waking up to the old frat trick: Pass Out On the Communal Couch, Wake Up With a Weave.*

*Peter was dramatic about this. He got off easy with just a single extension, but still.

Obviously, because sitcom TV is nothing if not highly incestuous, Peter moves into an apartment owned by Danny, next to Danny’s current apartment, which Mindy basically lives in, which more or less turns this into an episode of The New Girl, which I don’t hate. Nicole, Peter’s mini pomeranian, comes too.

Now, let’s take a moment to recap:

1) In the last episode, Danny found Mindy’s diary and learned that she’s waiting for him to propose.

2) Danny was freaked out.

Resume:

Peter settles in (to both his own apartment and Danny’s) and it appears that he may just get the hang of growing up. Meanwhile, Mindy answers the door for Danny’s contractor who clearly needs to seek the help of a therapist. He’s there to take a look at the wall he’s going to knock down between Danny’s current apartment and the one Peter is living in, because Danny apparently wants to expand.

This is news to Mindy. Here’s what the word “expansion” (and “surprise!”) translates to in her ears: more space for familial planning. Oh yea, baby.

Not wanting to waste a second of her potential future, Mindy’s like, “Sorry Peter, you’re out. We need the apartment back.” And though it was a truly shitty thing to do on Mindy’s part, the half-man, half-boy retaliates in the best way he knows how: with a rager.

Danny and Mindy go to break up the party where Peter, still fuming, lets Danny know that Mindy kicked him out because she thinks she’s officially moving in. Danny explains that the expansion was meant for his mom. Mindy’s hurt but we don’t have much time to ruminate on this because…

Peter ends his own rager in true frat style: by over-greasing his nipples and sliding belly-first off the beer pong table and out a window, where he winds up “legit concussed” at the hospital.

But he’s fine. Danny and Mindy visit him, all is forgiven because this show loves to end with a mostly-wrapped bow, and we are reminded, again, that men are avocados: you can put them in a paper bag/TriBeCa loft/on babysitting duty* to speed up the ripening process, but you’re only asking them to go squishy before you get the chance to make guacamole.

*This was a Morgan and Jeremy sidebar that honestly gives me a headache so just forget it happened and we can discuss next week if absolutely need be.