I spent most of yesterday in the park with the September issue of Vogue.
I certainly wouldn't be the first to marvel at what an amazing book it is, so I won't....
I just really want to point out an essay that in such a massive fashion book might have been missed.
On page 494, Amaranth Ehrenhalt remembers being a struggling artist in the 50s in "Cafe Society."She recalls a gift, or rather two, that she received from Alberto Giacometti.
I won't spoil it an recount it in entirety (its worth the cost of the magazine just for the one essay,) but reading this essay reminded me again why I love to read.
I love the stories, the connections, and the characters. I love it even more when they blend reality and fantasy, so that the only way it is real, is that I believe it so.
I'm used to finding stories like this in The New York Times or The Atlantic, but to find such a powerful, short, and sweet story in the middle of the September Vogue, was the most pleasant of surprises.
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