t’s funny how life has a habit of throwing up serendipitous style moments. Right before Halloween, my son asked me if I could cough up a black suit for him to wear to a bash in Manhattan. He and some mates were doing Men in Black. “I cannot,” I told him. “I don’t own a black suit. Not even a tux.” “Why?” he asked.
It’s a good question, especially when you’re asking someone who’s approaching 35 years in the fashion mag business. For most of that, though I must have styled a thousand of them, I have not owned a black suit. So, I thought it might be interesting for this first Big Black Book-themed newsletter to parse out what led me to this position.
More, here.
