Last summer as I sat in Dimes Square with my friend Levi, along came K in The Row double breasted black jacket, Ralph Lauren blue suede wide legged trousers and Manolo Blahnik black sling backs.
This is all according to them when I asked what they wore the day we met. Who else remembers all their outfits like this? K does.
Shy in temperament but never one to hold back esoteric knowledge, K is a tender gem with an outsized brain probing life’s profound questions and vast weariness. We first bonded when the heel of their Manolo Blahnik broke and I rushed off to get them Chinatown slippers. Since then we’ve had endless gin and tonics at Clandestino, drunk karaoke nights at Upstairs and the Goodbye Chinatown video. Now they are back home in the Pacific Northwest, but their ghost haunts me whenever I am in the triangle of sadness that is Dimes.
A go-to for impeccable taste and more importantly the first person to lend a helping hand, here is my dear friend K.
I think a lot about Taoism these days.
With no doubt, humanity has been pushed and tethered into rushing radical ideologies— no news there.
Is there a way to move through life beautifully, joyfully, thoughtfully without oversimplifying oneself to be heard and seen? Can we have it all?
I think about the island within an island that is Dimes Square.
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