I’m getting itchy to pull out my copy of Rushmore and commence with the annual viewing. For some odd reason, probably deeply rooted in my continually teenange-ish mind, I can only watch it when the time is right.

That time, for me, is fall. There have to be some leaves on the ground and a nip in the air for the DVD to come out of the case.

As Ms. Cross once quoted, “Nihilo sanctum estne? (Is nothing sacred?)”

What’s your unfailing tradition?

I recently rewatched The Legend of Leigh Bowery and got so fired up: the man is a freaking icon! So many designers and experimental avant-garde artists — Alexander McQueen, Gareth Pugh, Boy George, Lady Gaga, anyone who wears a giant one-piece costume that includes full face coverage while doing an interview — can be traced back to Leigh Bowery’s visionary performances and costuming in the 1980s. Leigh was a drag mama, an intellectual, a space alien, a club queen, a trans-performer and an advocate for creating your own reality. Not happy here on Earth? Get a nylon mask and try the world on with a new perspective.

I highly recommend the documentary. Watch it (for free!) here.

Every time I meander through the Lower East Side I make a point to go past Freemans. They’ve mastered the concept of the “lifestyle” establishment: they’re an old fashioned barbershop, a men’s clothing atelier that makes suits to order as Freemans Sporting Club, and a taxidermy-filled “rugged clandestine American tavern” (that actually feels very Bavarian, to me), all at the end of the ancient Freeman’s Alley (yep, it’s actually down a cobble stone alley; how perfect is that?).

And I must add that the food is freaking delicious: catfish, jalapeno cheddar grits, oysters (and those are just today’s specials!), and the best cocktails you’ll ever down. I’ve yet to purchase a pantsuit or require that my neck be shaved, but if I ever feel the need, I know that I’ll hit up all available Freemans establishments. Now if they only had an old timey women’s clothing shop filled with tailored 1930s style suits and vintage high waisted Levis: then we’d be in business….

And a note: I never actually want a clean shaven men. Beards make my world go ’round! However, I do love Olive Oyl and Popeye. Enjoy “Clean Shaven Man.”

I’m sweating these Moscot sunglasses real hard. The green lenses are 1950s perfection. Come to mama!