22 THECUTAUGUSTSEPTEMBER,EDITOR’SLETTEROther “paper tweets”
from my notebook:- No.10:“Spoketo
afriendIgrewup with
inBrooklynandwe
saidnothingbut
‘GetmeoutofN.Y.’
ButIthinkwe’ll
bothenduphere.” - No.4:“Afterwork,
abunchofuswere
chattingaboutwhat
todo.Wenamedbars
andclubs.There
wasalotof,‘Justwent
there,’and,‘Can’t go
backthere.’Noone
coulddecideonthe
PERFECTPLACE.
Weendedupatthe
closestbarwecould
indandby9p.m., the
grouphadcompletely
izzledout.” - No.2:“Wewere
talkingaboutallthe
marriedpeople
weknowinN.Y.and
concludedthatwe
didn’treallyknow
any.Everybody
weknowwho’sreally
marriedlivesin
adifferentcity.”
Making
Scenes
RECENTLY, I WAS CLEARING OFF A SHELF when I
came across a binder full of paper ephemera from the
last 20-odd years. Inside was a tiny notebook from col-
lege that I’d filled with observations about New York,
circa 1997, and carefully numbered one through 17. No.
7 said: “All of the in-crowds in N.Y. are made up of peo-
ple who are not originally from here.”
We didn’t have Twitter back then, so our smallest
thoughts stayed mercifully tucked away in notebooks,
long forgotten. There were other observations jotted
down, including the fact that people were mad about
Times Square becoming too clean and the appearance of
a “cellular” phone in a bar. No. 3 said: “My boss is 52 but
looks 40. She claims it’s because New York has kept her
young. My other boss is 32 but he looks 40. He told me,
‘New York ages you.’ ” Maybe, I theorized, after a long time
in New York everybody eventually just looks 40.
For our fashion portfolio, “IRL City” (page 68), we
collaborated with Marie Tomanova, a young photog-
rapher and émigré from the Czech Republic who,
since 2011, has been photographing her friends andPhotograph by MARIE TOMANOVAON ATTICUS:
Cape, shirt,
and pants by
GUCCI.
(See p.68.)different scenesters downtown, most of whom come
to the city from other places or outer-boroughs. Like
Nan Goldin or Ryan McGinley before her, she cap-
tures a certain energy of dressing to be seen by others
like yourself—the thrill of trying on new identities and
forging a community from a shared style.
Tomanova photographed her subjects, coming and
going out, as they would like to be dressed if they
could afford the highest-end fashions, mixed in with
their own clothes. For me, it is like looking at a movie
version of a lost memory. Now that I am actually in
my 40s—that age everybody looked to me when I was
young—I appreciate how fleeting those moments of
being self-conscious, walking around the city looking
to fit in, really were.
This issue has a lot to do with reinvention and try-
ing on new identities. If you can’t come to the streets
to find your tribe, you can at least buy their old clothes
on Depop (page 52). Our cover star, actress Lucy
Boynton (page 42), embodies a series of desperate
mid-century housewives as she tries to find herself, a
process not unlike dressing for awards shows, it turns
out. Fashion’s gorgeous jester, the young Simon Porte
Jacquemus (page 56), designs his clothes for kids who
just want to party in the sunshine. Kimora Lee Sim-
mons (page 60), well into her third act and tough as
ever, is flanked by her own daughters, who are making
a comeback for Baby Phat.
Many of the notes in that lost little notebook seem
related to this edition of the Cut in print. I’m not a
very nostalgic person, except, it seems, for when it
comes to my relationship to my hometown.
—Stella Bugbee