I'm convinced the Frick reads this blog, that's all I'm gonna say
Headed out into the tundra to go to the Frick Museum As per my last post, it was cold AF in New York City. I decided this might be a rare occasion to break out my grandmother's "knee length" blond mink coat. *For anyone stymied right now, let it be known that while my grandmother had an aggressively large personality, she was really really short. But yeah it's still a gorgeous coat that was made by my great grandfather for his daughter... my great grandfather being a furrier and all. My plan was to wear this coat so as not to freeze my ass off on the way up to the Frick, the perfect gilded age destination for a person in such a coat. So on brand. I get up there, I meet my friend Anna and together we go inside. And here's how I know the Frick reads this blog, specifically the earlier post here , where i rant specifically about four things at the newly remodeled Frick: 1) Somehow, you keep winding up in the Frick lobby and then you have to dig out your tickets ag...