My literary and fashionista friend in the Heights -a rarity nowadays- reads the New Yorker, the Paris Review, Harper’s and Vogue. Recently, he texted me a pic of the new Paris Review bag. Lovely as it is and understated in design, like the literary opus the magazine publishes, the perfect bag for an older classic in style man, are the words that can resume my answer to his message, thinking he would respond with, “Do you want me to get one for you?”. Not at all; all I got was a link to the site where the bags are sold and a sensation that some people are so selfish.
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