The weekend is about to introduce a deus ex machina.
Your Perks: 1) Vintage Rolexes from the ’60s and ’70s. Very rare. Very real. 2) Fall-ready raincoats and vests with a pocket specifically made for your tablet. 3) Everything you need to restock your home bar. Suddenly you’re feeling parched...
First comes the party, naturally. That’s tonight. Then comes the part of the Clark & Madison pop-up where you grab a gratis cup of Stumptown and consider picking up a handsome whiskey-colored weekender bag, some pocket squares and a tote made out of old sails. That part’s not bad either.
If you’re at Acrimony’s event on Saturday, the one where they’ll have more than 200 deadstock, small-batch and archived fabrics lying around just dying to become a shirt that works on you and only you, it would be kind of heartless to leave and crush some innocent fabric’s dreams.
You are cordially invited to the Stag Dining Group’s latest little get-together. No big deal, just you, Jacques Pépin and five courses of ratatouille, sea urchin brandade and crêpes suzette. You just need the password for tickets: it’s “pepin.” It was that or “1234.”
Three words: Brunch at Plin.
Nineteen more: Let’s see, baked egg over polenta. Baked french toast with mascarpone
cheese and roasted pecans. Sweetbread omelets. Bottomless Bloodys.
And about those last two: They seem especially important.
First, the bad news: it’s no longer oyster season. Not in terms of Bar Agricole’s happy hour, anyway. There. Now you must be hungry for the good news. It involves $2 sausages (this week is pork) and $3 beers. All day on Sunday. See? The bad news seems less bad now.
