And now, six life-improving facts await you...
If your walls could talk... they’d probably have plenty to say, but at some point they’d get around to mentioning how nice it’d be to have some more gallery-worthy photography hanging on them. Like these canvas prints from award-winning wildlife photog Randal Ford. You’re welcome, walls.
Once again, we’ve rounded up the finest films, festivals, books, music and anything else you may want to throw on your calendar this month. And the next few weeks are particularly stacked: there’s a new docuseries based on Hugh Hefner, the Tribeca Film Festival, that long-awaited new Gorillaz album and a decent excuse to book a trip to Paris. Not that you needed one.
For starters, you’ve got a modern Bali escape with 24-hour cocktail service and a rooftop jacuzzi with a live DJ. Then there’s the boutique hotel in the Bahamas with three rum bars and much potential for horseback excursions. And let’s not forget the New Zealand spot with emergency bow-tie service, nor the pair of New York hotels with killer views. It’s okay, you don’t have to choose just one.
Looks like you’re heading there with a handsome navy trolley case containing a slim-fitting herringbone linen blazer (for keeping you warm-ish while you consume Campari on your villa’s balcony), Todd Snyder boardshorts (for a little Americana flair) and tan leather espadrilles (because you’re on vacation, after all).
Sure, you could stick with the age-old combo of popcorn, 64-ounce soda and Raisinettes. Or you could go to one of these theaters and watch a movie while clutching a fresh lobster roll, octopus ceviche or a cocktail that’s housed in a Japanese infusion tower originally designed for cold brew. Yeah, go with that one.
Here to make you look better during your backswing are three new labels (one counts Bill Murray and Justin Timberlake as fans) outfitting you in pale blue long-sleeved piqué shirts, understated bucket hats and hybrid shorts that can work on or off the golf course. You’ll have to earn the green blazer on your own.
Josh Tillman, better known as Father John Misty, subverts the sincerity of his genre with lyrics about groupie trysts, has live-tweeted a Tinder date and has publicly trashed the corporate pop music machine (... after collaborating with Lady Gaga and Beyoncé). So we must ask ourselves: is he a smug, self-obsessed douche, or just imitating one for kicks? To put it another way: is Father John Misty the Kanye West of folk-rock?
