First Face Time in Eight Years

Soumanjoy has always wondered what I would look like without a beard. I said he would simply have to keep on wondering. Then for his birthday I thought I would give him the gift of the great unveil!

Well his other present was a ticket to join Price, Justin, Sarah and me in Texas for five days at a friends ranch.

I figured that if I shaved on Wednesday night and we left for Texas on Thursday that I would have nearly a week on a ranch to let my beard grow back in case I looked dreadful.

On Wednesday afternoon during the last episode of the Oprah’s show (ever!) I was inspired by her speech of action and ran upstairs and began clipping. I documented the removal, shaving each chunk and snapping a shot transitioning from redneck chin shave to raver zipper sideburns to Castro Queen handlebar and finally the end result, me.

I stared at the naked face in the mirror not quite knowing how to react. Who is this person? I haven’t shaved for about eight years. My lips look so small, where is my chin? Wow how did my nose get that big? What are those massive lines from nose to lips? Under that coat of fur I had aged and this was the first time I am seeing it. Getting old has never bothered me. I can’t wait to look like Hemingway (so I hope) although I don’t think I’ll have the salty hair to go with it unless I buy a toupee. But it is a shock to see oneself as a different person.

As the day went on I had many moments of silly surprises. I went out onto the terrace and the breeze on my face felt so different. When I ate a sandwich I didn’t have to keep wiping my mustache. I haven’t licked my lips in ages. When I was hot after gardening I could slap water on my face and feel so refreshed and clean. It dried so fast and wasn’t dripping after several minutes. Fergus licking me all over my face and not just on my hairless forehead was comforting. And the simple reflex of running my hand down the side of my face felt so slippery.

When Soumanjoy arrived home at 7:30 I was holding Fergus in front of my face when I met him. He immediately grabbed Fergus and buried his face into his stomach and took him out to the terrace. Hey! Look at me! I followed him outside and just waited for him to finally look. When he did he nearly dropped the dog. “Oh my God! Oh my God! Look at YOU! Wow. I finally am seeing you.” He gave me a big hug and stared at me. It felt funny and vulnerable. He was seeing me as me. All evening when we were talking I could tell he was examining my face with a little grin.

                                                                        (Mr. Jack Kerouac)

I kept trying to figure out whom I looked like. A soldier from the 30’s? A Greek boy from the 50’s? Michelle Barge decided, Jack Kerouac. The long face, the nose, the short hair. Not bad.

When I sent an email out of my shorn face, mother admitted she wouldn’t have recognized me on the street. Everyone says I look ten years younger. But I miss my beard. It is a part of me, of my facial structure, of who I am. I have been wearing some form of heard since 2001 when I went to London after 9/11 and saw some boys in beards and thought I would give it a shot. But for many years I have been accused of hiding behind my hats, my beard and my glasses and for the first time in many years I’ve taken that all away.

It works well on the farm in Texas but as the days go on and the ole fuzz starts forming I feel more me. Maybe one day I’ll shave it off again, but for now I enjoy being the beard in every way shape and form.

Sunday Styles

I woke up to a deluge this morning. Severs storm reports abounded on phone, radio and TV. During an ad on my favorite program, CBS Sunday Morning, I ran downstairs to get the paper.

When I opened the door against the rather harsh elements I found a paper drenched from the downpour. Now didn't the New York Times know it was going to rain?

Regardless I pretended the pile of wet mush was an ancient scroll and I gingerly peeled each page apart, careful not to rip it. Luckily Fergus was asleep on the couch or the entire thing would of been a wet confetti explosion.

Naturally the first section I read was Sunday Styles and I was so pleased to see a picture from the fun and festive Frick Ball from last Monday. It is of Lucy Lang, me and Michelle Harper all inquisitively gazing at something or other. Most likely champagne.

What a nice gift for my first week of 35.
But the real gift was an email I received from a good friend and a great leader in the fashion world.

It read:

Dear Cator,
I must say that your picture in the New York Times is really extraordinary …
 There is something very mature ( in a very good way) very chic in that shot .
I looked at this picture like a major step in your career … I don’t know how to explain this …
This picture is not just a picture , it prints your name , your wit , your elegance , your laugh in the high sphere of New York society …
 Bravo .

It's moments like that where words far outshine pictures and something we all really need to hear now and then to keep the confidence up in the rough and rugged world of trying to eek out a living in NYC.

Thank you HP

Two of my favorite gifts for my 35th

Gifts mean different things to different people. We are all fine with gift cards (as I am for someone who has everything-itunes are awesome!) or a check and I love it when a gift comes in the form of a dinner date with the giver for a proper one on one catch up and cocktail. But there are those gifts that can truly touch one to the core because of the thought and effort involved.

Two of those sorts of gifts landed in my lap for my 35th birthday so I thought I would share them here.

My best friend from college, Claire sent me a box from Charleston. In it was the most amazing pink and gold package and inside I discovered glass vials filled with powders saturated in a vivid array of colors. Scattered through were metal stamps with Hindu designs on them.

Her card read, " The enclosed pink box is something I purchased from a little girl on the banks of the Ganges River-there is a bag of metal stamps in the box and you use them to make decorative bindis."

She sent them for me to use at my Indian themed party, but I wanted to keep them for myself for a little while and just gaze at them! I figured 100 drunk people would end up throwing the powder around the room like Holi and use the stamps for cocktail stirrers. I know I would!

So I let people look but not touch. Next Indian dinner party I host I will pull them out and decorate everyone before we start drinking. Thanks Claire!

The other gift that bowled me over was the sherwani Soumanjoy surprised me with. We went to Jackson Heights a month ago to go costume shopping. I bought a sequined kurta for $50 for my party. Sherwani's were out of the question at $400-$600 a piece.

On my actual birthday when we met up with friends at Tiny's for drinks he had a big bag in tow and a huge grin on his face. It didn't take long for me to grab that bag and dig in. Inside was a dazzling golden sherwani his sister had sent from India. I pulled it out of it's plastic bag with shakey hands and tried it on. Perfect fit!

Now I knew why he had been up at 4am several nights on the phone with his sister. Simontica and her boyfriend Skyped Soumanjoy from the store to pick out the right one.

                                        (Soumanjoy joked that the designer must have a lisp
                                                                   after we read the label)

It was a huge success at my party and went unscathed. I was petrified of cigarette burns or wine spills. I want to wear it every day! Sherwani chicness can be the new look for men I'm sure. Isn't the lumber prepster look about done?

Thank you my Maharajah.

My 35th

Tuesday I turned the big 3-5.
I love birthdays. It's kind of like New Year's except you wake up on the actual day with no hangover. For the most part.

                                               (My cake at the Trustees Dining Room)

I was up at 7:30 and had the morning routine of playing with Mabel with my eyes half shut while she makes the figure eight around my hand to get the most contact possible. Then I roll over and stare at my wall of pictures, follow them to the windows perched 20 feet above the ground in the turret and gauge the weather of the day. Then I usually hear a little whimper. That would be Fergus ready for his morning tinkle.

I give Mabel one last hearty pat and roll out of bed, open the blinds, stare out at the wide street of 122nd and watch the clouds in the sky until Fergus reminds me he still needs to wizz. I dress in my gym clothes, open his crate and carry him downstairs to the garden terrace. He bounds around for a while then remembers to tinkle, gets a treat (Good Potty Fergus!) and continues playing.

I then pick him up, bring him inside, plop him on my chest on the chesterfield, pull out my Nikky Haslam book and read a chapter while he passes out and cuddles. 35 ain't so bad so far!

That afternoon Rod and I took a car down to the Met for lunch in the Trustees Dining Room. It was a madhouse! Everyone was there to see the McQueen show, open only to members that day. We waited so long for a table the host brought out champagne for everyone. Hoorah. We had a lovely meal and commented on just about every table in the room, "Ooooh look at her hair! That dress? Who is that man in pink?"

The exhibit was great to see again although packed to the gills with people. I spied several things I had missed on press day and watched the entire Kate Moss hologram installation.

(My gift to myself on the big day- a pair of McQueen Armadillo pump tree decorations!)

Afterward I had to rush home to finish a story due that day (damn deadlines!) and at 5:30 headed down to Chelsea for a meeting with the Citizens Committee of New York City. I applied for a grant for tree guards for the block and was approved! So I had to go meet the team. From community service to champagne, I headed to Olivia's for a bottle before heading out for the night. Lovely!

We headed to Tiny's for a round of drinks. It was great to see Jack, our old bartender from the Beatrice who now manages this new spot. Fay, Lucy, Javas and Soumanjoy joined us.
Soumnajoy was carrying an awfully big bag in his hand and a smile on his face. HAND IT OVER.

I unpacked it to find a jewel encrusted Sherwani his sister sent from India for me to wear at my party. It is beyond handsome, over the top and a major moment for my closet! I had to try it on then and there and it fits like a glove. Thanks babe!

From there we walked to Bubby's in Tribeca for piles of mac & cheese, short ribs, nachos and cocktails. Fay and Olivia surprised me with a little carrot cake cupcake and a candle and song. We all split the wee cupcake after such a massive meal.

And that was that! A perfect day with fantastic friends whose presence always mean more than any presents.

Fergus' Southern Sojourn

Last weekend I took Fergus on his first big trip. We headed out to the airport at 7am and arrived in Atlanta at noon. He was a great traveler. I brought the baby benadryl just in case but he didn't need it. Although he got a little antsy at the end. He will def need it for the Texas trip at the end of the month!

Mom and Dad's house was like a whole different world with a puppy. Not only was I on the constant crawl to find him in the house since it is entirely carpeted so it looks like one giant wee wee pad, but we explored parts of the yard I had never darkened.

Every morning we would wake up around 8am and pad outside into the sunlight where Fergus would spring to like and chase the squirrels, dogs and frolic in the leaf piles.

He got along great with Dudley, the new Basset Hound mom and dad rescued. They had a blast and would race around for hours. Thank God since Buford is too old and ornery and Chloe is just too fat.

Friday morning mom and I woke at 5am for the royal wedding. I am so glad we did. Yes, you saw clips for the next five days but to watch it uninterrupted was glorious. That afternoon we wearily drove to Roswell to meet up with Cator and Susan Angel who grew up next door to mom and Cator in Buckhead. She found me on Facebook and wanted to meet up. It was lovely meeting her sister and sister-in-law for lunch and looking at old pictures.

When I got home dad and I cleaned the boat. I brought Fergus down to the dock and all was well until I couldn't find him and saw him paddling in the lake! I Florence Nightengaled into the water and rescued him. He has officially had his Southern baptism. That evening we went to the club and I was so tired that I got way too drunk (thanks Jerry for the white wine!) and don't really remember coming home and passing out at 10:30.

Saturday was fun filled with Laura, Sam, Mary, Kathy, Drew and Genene coming up for a day on the boat. That morning there was a Chicken Festival in Gainesville so Laura, Sam and Mary came up early for that. We pigged out on all sorts of chicken and our friend Don Dukes had his own booth- The Dukes of Oil. He also had his own redneck stemware which I am obsessed with!

Mom packed a huge lunch for the afternoon and we tooled around the lake and beached at Sunset cove so Mary could play with some other kids while we drank, ate and caught up. Good times.

That evening I went to the rare and wonderful Applebees for dinner with Gay. It's actually refreshing to go to a chain every once in a while and DAMN those mozzarella sticks are good.

Sunday we just hung out at the house and spent most of the day in the yard with the dawgs before heading back to the airport.

Thanks mom and dad for another lovely and lulling weekend in the South.