It was a spectator sport of a weekend, which I’m choosing to frame as productive. While everyone else seemed to be out doing (i.e., beach walks in my , above, for example!), I held things down on the home front: ate an aggressive amount of my friend’s homemade cinnamon bundt cake, steamed my son’s prom suit like it was a part-time job, and initiated my trusty ritual of -loading to fight off whatever flu-meets-bad-cold situation is currently making the rounds. Also: moodboarding my sister’s Tribeca apartment, which is coming together in that very specific downtown way. We’re talking new (the kind that imply you have your life together), and a because apparently that’s just baseline now? Every new apartment has one. I don’t make the rules. All of which is to say: a lot of observing, and somehow I came out of it with a running list of things I want this very minute—objects, yes, but also entire aesthetics. See below: sandals (such a big yes!), the suede getaway tote, oversized bomber jacket (it’s it!— and ), a, La Veste , and the chicest ankle-flared black pants from .