Back in 1987, I had a NYC neighbor who claimed to be an Indian Princess. She spoke the Queen’s English and gave out advice of all sorts with a haughty flair. While she was full of shit in some ways, she was often spot on in matters of fashion and design. Her small one bedroom apartment was impeccably decorated in an understated elegance. Dark grey fabric walls were inset with antiqued mirrors. And while I couldn’t be bothered with many of her edicts, her walls spoke to to elegant aspirations of my future.
( Credit: Stephen Cavallo/Mirror Fair Photograph by Jeff Hirsch)