Margo Feiden Made The Upper East Side Of Manhattan Glamorous

I used to love visiting the Madison Avenue gallery that represented caricaturist Al Hirschfeld. It was a short walk from our apartment building, Margo Feiden was very theatrical looking. She was always very friendly and loved talking about Broadway Stars and Shows. You felt like a Showbiz insider after being in her company. You walked away feeling so energetic and alive. The world needs more people like Margo. RIP. —LWH

Margo Feiden, Hirschfeld’s Idiosyncratic Gallerist, Dies at 77

She handled the sales of the great caricaturist’s works and told stories of flying Diane Arbus in her plane and encountering the woman who shot Andy Warhol.

Neil Genzlinger
Alex Traub

By Neil Genzlinger and Alex Traub

Oct. 28, 2022

The scene on a recent Friday at a Greenwich Village townhouse was like a cross between an art opening and a rummage sale.

On the sidewalk, a barker urged passers-by to take a look. Inside the townhouse, a five-story mansion on East Ninth Street on the market for nearly $11 million, the wares included signed prints by the caricaturist Al Hirschfeld — elegant line drawings of Frank Sinatra, Jerry Seinfeld and dozens of others selling for thousands of dollars — as well as a plastic tub of electrical wiring, a heated massage cushion, a pair of 1998-edition Happy Holidays Barbies, and boxes of worn hats and purses.

Overseeing it all, somewhat reluctantly, was Jeremy Rosen, who for weeks has been trying to dispose of what his mother, who died in April in Manhattan, left behind.

She was Margo Feiden, a gallerist best known for the more than 30 years she spent representing Mr. Hirschfeld, the artist famous for his sketches of Broadway luminaries and other stars. Mr. Rosen described himself as “proudly estranged” from his mother, but it had fallen to him to sort through the abundant mix of junk and valuable art she left behind at the townhouse, which was both her home and the latest location of the Margo Feiden Galleries, which she founded in 1969. He said he would continue the estate sale for several weeks.

Ms. Feiden died on April 2 at 77. A report by the city health department listed an array of causes, including cardiopulmonary arrest, pneumonia, urinary tract infection and “failure to thrive.” Though her family placed a paid announcement of her death in The New York Times that month, her passing had gone otherwise unnoted until a Times reader called the estate sale to the newspaper’s attention.

Ms. Feiden occasionally showed other artists at her gallery, including the theater illustrator Don Freeman and the writer Kurt Vonnegut, who dabbled in drawing.

Mr. Hirschfeld, though, was her main client.

As Ms. Feiden told the story to The New York Times in 2000, she met him in 1970, a year after she opened her gallery, when he came in to browse and noticed a photograph of her with an airplane. She told him that she had a pilot’s license and that flying was her hobby. His response, she said, was “Any woman who can fly an airplane can sell my art.”

Her gallery started out on East 10th Street, later had an Upper East Side location on Madison Avenue and ended up back in the Village, on East Ninth Street. There were always Hirschfelds on the walls, but Ms. Feiden also mounted special exhibitions over the years.

For the opening night of a Hirschfeld retrospective in 1985, she had East 10th Street strung with pennants and balloons and positioned vendors on the sidewalk to hand out hot dogs, cotton candy and popcorn. An estimated 1,000 people showed up. A Times reporter covering the evening recorded this exchange.

Mr. Hirschfeld: “I want you to know I had nothing to do with this. She said she was having an exhibition. I didn’t know there was going to be a carnival.”

Ms. Feiden: “I didn’t tell him. I was afraid he wouldn’t have come.”

Mr. Hirschfeld: “She’s quite right.”

For three days in 1991, the Madison Avenue location was declared an official post office in honor of the release of stamps bearing Hirschfeld drawings. Three years later, to mark the 25th anniversary of the gallery, Ms. Feiden had a 40-foot caricature of Mr. Hirschfeld himself painted on the roadway. (Rain came before the sealing topcoat had set, and “he lost about 20 pounds,” she told The Times, though the painters returned to touch up the portrait.)

The Hirschfeld-Feiden relationship went through rough patches, especially in 2000, when Mr. Hirschfeld brought suit against Ms. Feiden, seeking more control over the sale and exhibition of his drawings and asking for more rigorous accounting of sales.

Later that year Mr. Hirschfeld withdrew the suit after reaching a new agreement with Ms. Feiden. Mr. Hirschfeld died in 2003, and 13 years later there was more acrimony: The Hirschfeld Foundation, which mounts exhibitions of his work and supports arts causes, sued Ms. Feiden, claiming that she had violated the 2000 agreement in numerous ways.

The case dragged on for years, with the court siding with the foundation in a series of rulings and awarding several hundred thousand dollars in damages. In 2020, the foundation said in an announcement on its websitethat it had “regained complete control of all of Al Hirschfeld’s work,” and that its relationship with Ms. Feiden was “100% terminated.”

But Mr. Hirschfeld was only one element of Ms. Feiden’s life.

Margo Feiden was born on Dec. 2, 1944, in Brooklyn and grew up in the Flatbush section. Her father, Joseph, was an electrical contractor. Her mother, Jewel (Eliasberg) Feiden, had early aspirations to be an actress before, her daughter once said, becoming a stockbroker later in life.

Ms. Feiden had an early interest in theater. She is said to have produced a production of the musical “Peter Pan” with high school students when she was 16. The next year she staged her own play, “Out Brief Candle.”

Perhaps those early theatrical forays led to a brush with infamy that Ms. Feiden said she had in 1968, though she didn’t tell the story publicly until this century. She said that on June 3 of that year, a woman named Valerie Solanas turned up at her apartment in Crown Heights, Brooklyn, insisting that Ms. Feiden produce a play she had written.

When Ms. Feiden declined, according to an account she gave to The Times in 2009, Ms. Solanas told her that she intended to shoot the artist Andy Warhol, which would make her so famous that Ms. Feiden would certainly change her mind. Another version of the tale, this one in The New York Post in 2018, presented the exchange somewhat differently: Ms. Solanas bluntly told Ms. Feiden, in so many words, that if she didn’t agree to stage the play, she would shoot Warhol.

In any case, Ms. Feiden said that after displaying a gun, the woman left her apartment; later that day, she did indeed shoot Warhol, who was severely injured. Ms. Feiden said she had tried to warn the police and others but was not taken seriously.

Ms. Feiden opened her gallery the next year. Some of the earliest attention she received was for her skill at restoring damaged works on paper. She had begun collecting lithographs and, seeing that many were showing wear, studied up on how to restore them.

In this period Ms. Feiden was also apparently making use of the pilot’s license she had acquired. She told the biographer Patricia Bosworth for her 1984 book about the photographer Diane Arbus that she used to take Arbus on joy rides over Manhattan, flying out of an airstrip on Long Island.

“Diane never spoke during these flights,” Ms. Feiden said. “She seemed mesmerized by the experience and relieved to be off the ground.”

Ms. Feiden’s unusual résumé added another entry in 1989 when she published “The Calorie Factor,” a book she had been researching for a decade, prompted by her own struggle to control her weight. At one point, she said, she hit 300 pounds, but by learning to count calories she shed half of that weight. The book — dozens of copies of which surrounded the entryway to her home during the estate sale — was an extremely detailed listing of how many calories were in which foods.

Ms. Feiden’s marriages to David Rosen and Stanley Goldmark ended in divorce. Her third husband, Julius Cohen, died in 1995. She is survived by a daughter, Bambi Goldmark, and Mr. Rosen.

Mr. Rosen lives in Austin, Texas, and before this year he had not spent much time at his mother’s townhouse. When he came to New York to see his mother in January, he found her home in a state of “squalor,” he said. “By anybody’s definition of ‘hoarder,’ she fit it,” he added.

He was speaking on the street outside his mother’s home. Twice, a garbage truck drove by, and he ran off to hurl a plastic bag of junk into it.

At the same time, Oscar Fuentes, a handyman who acted as Ms. Feiden’s caretaker at the end of her life, called out to anyone he saw on the street, trying to sound as inviting as possible.

“Welcome to our estate sale,” he said. “It’s movies and Broadway history.”

Neil Genzlinger is a writer for the Obituaries desk. Previously he was a television, film and theater critic. @genznyt • Facebook

Alex Traub works on the Obituaries desk and occasionally reports on New York City for other sections of the paper. @alexetraub

Max And Zach’s Wedding

A very meaningful message
The wedding ceremony program
Zach signing the ketubah
Max signing the ketubah
The Kahn family filled with joy
Grandparents Irene and Allan walking down the aisle. My first cousins
Max and his parents, Jodi and Sammy Kahn
Zach and his parents, Jayne and Gary Wolff

Harrison (Max’s brother) & Liana Kahn with three month old baby Yehuda. They flew in from Israel. Sister Carly, always beautiful
.
The Grooms
Over 200 guests
First cousins/sisters Marilyn Levine and Irene Becker
Cousins Allan and Irene Becker
Cousins Marilyn and Richard Levine
Guess who ?
Grandpa Allan
The Grooms
Zack’s brother’s (he is a triplet. The tallest one is the youngest brother to the triplets) welcome Max to the family and are thrilled to have another tall one on the team. Max is my kissing cousin. Now Zach gets kisses too.
Closer look

Newsweek Published Susan’s Story

Susan S. Warner

‘I Lost My Husband and Son Within 7 Months’

SUSAN WARNER

 

The pain of losing a child is unnatural and indescribable. There is a hole in your heart that will never close and never heal. I lost my son to suicide in August, 2017. But seven months later, I also lost my magnificent husband.

My son David was magnanimous, loving, caring and charismatic. His personality was larger than life. But his demons were overpowering. He believed he didn’t deserve our love, that he didn’t deserve happiness. I know he thought that we would all be better off without his struggles and his disappointments—however misguided that was. But he believed it and acted upon it.

David’s death was earth-shattering. There was so much pain and numbness. I kept thinking about how I had carried him for 9 months, I had felt his life inside me, and that had brought me a depth of love only a mother could know.

My husband Michael felt responsible, often lost in the feelings that he could have done more for his son. Our friends and family shared in our pain and felt the pain that we experienced. We were loved and cocooned. It wasn’t my loss, it was our loss.

Deaths of this nature can rip a marriage and a family apart, but David’s death did the opposite. My husband Michael and I were closer than ever, protecting each other, loving each other even more, if possible. Our daughter Elizabeth brought us so much joy and jumped in to attempt to fill the gaping hole in our family.

Susan Warner with her son, David. Susan lost her son to suicide in 2017

Susan Warner with her son, David. Warner lost her son to suicide in 2017.

And then we returned from a vacation and Michael was convinced his gallbladder was acting up again. Testing revealed a mass. Over the next eight weeks, I stepped into the role of cheerleader, guidance counselor, and caretaker. I tried to believe I could make Michael better and that we could get through this.

Often, as the sun dimmed at the end of the day, we would lie in bed together and tell stories to each other. He particularly loved to hear me tell stories. As we lay together, me in the crook of his shoulder, listening to his heartbeat, we would reminisce about our meeting, our early married life, the birth of the children, their accomplishments, and our love. It was the one place I felt safe, that the world would spare us, as long as I was enveloped in his arms.

We often spoke about what we meant to each other. We were going to grow old together, walk into the sunset together. We felt fulfilled in our love, but I felt robbed that our love story was ending too soon.

It was difficult and it was dark. But Michael was an optimist. And he hoped. Hope is a word I generally struggle with now. He did not think that death was as imminent as it was. But his decline was so rapid, and Micheal died eight weeks after his diagnosis.

I felt Michael was going to our son David, spiritually, and that brought me comfort. I always picture them together, loving, laughing, as souls travel in pairs. I have reconciled that Michael had to go to David to protect him, which is why he had to leave us, while I needed to stay and protect Elizabeth. I understand this force as a parent.

On March 18, 2018, as I prepared to bury my husband, I remember thinking: “Don’t ever utter, ‘things can’t get worse,’ because they can.” Over a thousand people attended Michael’s funeral. Shiva, our seven-day mourning period, was brutal, necessary and mind-numbing. I wanted to leave and go home, but this new life was my home. I felt completely enveloped by the situation, without an escape.

Susan Warner with her husband Michael. Susan lost her husband just seven months after her son passed away.

I am fortunate to have such a supportive family and friends. They were there for me, like a safety net—some stronger than others—and they held Elizabeth and me up. And that was real. My daughter stayed with me for about a week after Michael’s death until we mutually decided it was time for her to go home, resume work and for us to establish our new norms. It was time to move forward.

I don’t think I taught myself to cope, it seems innate. I lost my mother at a young age, and I coped. This experience set the foundation for moving forward. When the doctors delivered Michael’s grim prognosis in the hospital, I took a walk with Elizabeth. Of course we were devastated, clinging tight to one another through moans and tears. But I tried to explain in that corridor that we had another chapter to write, a right turn to make. This was not the end for us. As far as coping skills go, I knew I always wanted to live. I knew I was going to jump into the next chapter—hesitant or reluctant, I was going to jump.

There are still triggers and there is still pain. But I am making another chapter, a right turn. I’m moving forward with Michael and David on my shoulder. I recently went to our little bucolic cemetery in Sag Harbor, New York, where my men are buried. I cried; it was brutal. I miss them every day.

But there are new relationships to forge and new experiences to have. I have chosen to wake up ready to become a better version of me, most days. There is so much more of me to grow and discover. I have one shot at this life, and it is my overwhelming desire to give it everything I’ve got.

Susan Warner is a writer and host of the podcast Susan is Suddenly Single. Find out more at her website, susanswarner.com.

Newsweek Published Susan’s Story

Susan S. Warner

‘I Lost My Husband and Son Within 7 Months’

SUSAN WARNER

 

The pain of losing a child is unnatural and indescribable. There is a hole in your heart that will never close and never heal. I lost my son to suicide in August, 2017. But seven months later, I also lost my magnificent husband.

My son David was magnanimous, loving, caring and charismatic. His personality was larger than life. But his demons were overpowering. He believed he didn’t deserve our love, that he didn’t deserve happiness. I know he thought that we would all be better off without his struggles and his disappointments—however misguided that was. But he believed it and acted upon it.

David’s death was earth-shattering. There was so much pain and numbness. I kept thinking about how I had carried him for 9 months, I had felt his life inside me, and that had brought me a depth of love only a mother could know.

My husband Michael felt responsible, often lost in the feelings that he could have done more for his son. Our friends and family shared in our pain and felt the pain that we experienced. We were loved and cocooned. It wasn’t my loss, it was our loss.

Deaths of this nature can rip a marriage and a family apart, but David’s death did the opposite. My husband Michael and I were closer than ever, protecting each other, loving each other even more, if possible. Our daughter Elizabeth brought us so much joy and jumped in to attempt to fill the gaping hole in our family.

Susan Warner with her son, David. Susan lost her son to suicide in 2017

Susan Warner with her son, David. Warner lost her son to suicide in 2017.

And then we returned from a vacation and Michael was convinced his gallbladder was acting up again. Testing revealed a mass. Over the next eight weeks, I stepped into the role of cheerleader, guidance counselor, and caretaker. I tried to believe I could make Michael better and that we could get through this.

Often, as the sun dimmed at the end of the day, we would lie in bed together and tell stories to each other. He particularly loved to hear me tell stories. As we lay together, me in the crook of his shoulder, listening to his heartbeat, we would reminisce about our meeting, our early married life, the birth of the children, their accomplishments, and our love. It was the one place I felt safe, that the world would spare us, as long as I was enveloped in his arms.

We often spoke about what we meant to each other. We were going to grow old together, walk into the sunset together. We felt fulfilled in our love, but I felt robbed that our love story was ending too soon.

It was difficult and it was dark. But Michael was an optimist. And he hoped. Hope is a word I generally struggle with now. He did not think that death was as imminent as it was. But his decline was so rapid, and Micheal died eight weeks after his diagnosis.

I felt Michael was going to our son David, spiritually, and that brought me comfort. I always picture them together, loving, laughing, as souls travel in pairs. I have reconciled that Michael had to go to David to protect him, which is why he had to leave us, while I needed to stay and protect Elizabeth. I understand this force as a parent.

On March 18, 2018, as I prepared to bury my husband, I remember thinking: “Don’t ever utter, ‘things can’t get worse,’ because they can.” Over a thousand people attended Michael’s funeral. Shiva, our seven-day mourning period, was brutal, necessary and mind-numbing. I wanted to leave and go home, but this new life was my home. I felt completely enveloped by the situation, without an escape.

Susan Warner with her husband Michael. Susan lost her husband just seven months after her son passed away.

I am fortunate to have such a supportive family and friends. They were there for me, like a safety net—some stronger than others—and they held Elizabeth and me up. And that was real. My daughter stayed with me for about a week after Michael’s death until we mutually decided it was time for her to go home, resume work and for us to establish our new norms. It was time to move forward.

I don’t think I taught myself to cope, it seems innate. I lost my mother at a young age, and I coped. This experience set the foundation for moving forward. When the doctors delivered Michael’s grim prognosis in the hospital, I took a walk with Elizabeth. Of course we were devastated, clinging tight to one another through moans and tears. But I tried to explain in that corridor that we had another chapter to write, a right turn to make. This was not the end for us. As far as coping skills go, I knew I always wanted to live. I knew I was going to jump into the next chapter—hesitant or reluctant, I was going to jump.

There are still triggers and there is still pain. But I am making another chapter, a right turn. I’m moving forward with Michael and David on my shoulder. I recently went to our little bucolic cemetery in Sag Harbor, New York, where my men are buried. I cried; it was brutal. I miss them every day.

But there are new relationships to forge and new experiences to have. I have chosen to wake up ready to become a better version of me, most days. There is so much more of me to grow and discover. I have one shot at this life, and it is my overwhelming desire to give it everything I’ve got.

Susan Warner is a writer and host of the podcast Susan is Suddenly Single. Find out more at her website, susanswarner.com.

Forbes Scooped AD On The Elizabeth Sutton Story

Artist Elizabeth Sutton Redefines “Sutton Place” With A Whimsical Townhouse Renovation

By Amanda Lauren

There’s nothing like a classic pre-war New York City townhouse, especially in the charming neighborhood of Sutton Place. These properties aren’t easy to come by, particularly for renters. Another challenge of these spaces is making them your own. No one knows this better than artist Elizabeth Sutton. The native New Yorker recently moved to a 6950 square foot townhouse with five bedrooms, three and a half bathrooms, and a beautiful backyard.

This isn’t just a home for Sutton and her two children, it’s also her studio and headquarters for her thriving business. The mom-turned-artist turned entrepreneur has licensed her designs to Tilebar, the Raynor Group, and Sur La Mur, among others on unique lines of tiles, office chairs, wallpaper, and more.

Sutton saw this townhouse not only as an opportunity to create a wonderland-inspired space to reflect her brand and showcase her various collaborations, but also to be her personal dream house to live, work, and create. I recently spoke with Sutton about the process.

Amanda Lauren: How did you find this incredible townhome?

Elizabeth Sutton: I found the townhouse on Streeteasy. I moved to Miami during Covid and missed home. I was stalking the market every single night. I decided I was going to combine my budgets for my personal apartment and studio and see if anything interesting popped up.

I saw the square footage and that it was an empty white box with a basement for storage. My brain saw a 6000 square foot blank canvas, with an opportunity for my creativity to run wild, to create a perfect showcase for my various home collections.

I sent my broker, Stefani Berkin, to check it out so she could send me videos and assess the space for herself. I signed the lease site unseen. It was definitely a gamble, but I felt it in my gut and knew it was the right choice.

Lauren: What are your favorite features of the home?

Sutton: One of my bucket list career goals is to design a boutique hotel with each room having a different theme. I saw this townhouse as an opportunity to show industry leaders within the development, architecture, and interior design spheres what Elizabeth Sutton, as a creative, can produce.

The large kitchen, sunlit dining room, huge circular window leading to the backyard, and tall ceiling heights on the first two floors felt ideal and optimal for hosting and entertainment purposes, something that I love to do both personally and need to do more of professionally.

My work floor, home studio and home office have some of the boldest designs I’ve ever created including positive mantras on custom roller shades, and a 60 inch magnificent brass lighting fixture that I custom designed and painted. The pipe wallpaper in my master bedroom is truly genius. This house has unique and amazing energy.

Lauren: Why did you decide to combine your home, studio and office spaces?

Sutton: I have been working from home for the past two years and moved to Miami after Covid hit. I am a single mother of two kids and run a very robust, dynamic, and demanding business. The commute from my apartment to my studio, there and back, used to take over an hour and a half out of my day. Living and working in the same space is more efficient for my schedule.

There are some drawbacks, in that I can never separate my work from my life, but my family and I get to benefit from the extra square footage that my business’ budget had for the studio. Living in a box in New York is much harder when you have experienced lots of space.

Lauren: What was the townhouse like when you moved in?

Sutton: Honestly, it wasn’t in the best condition. It was brand new in the sense it had just been completely renovated, but it was still towards the end of its construction phase with no built-out closets, a completely unfinished backyard, and really old carpentry.

Lauren: What changes did you make to the space?

Sutton: I changed everything. I removed all existing light fixtures and hardware, built out a bar in the backyard, and covered the tile and every single wall with wallpaper or fine art.

I added gorgeous track lighting, custom-made light fixtures, and decorative accents, including glittered picture frames. We accessorized with magnificent pillows, custom linens and towels that I designed with Mehlrose NY.

There are amazing artistic pieces of glasswork in collaboration with Galaxy Glass and Stone, including custom mirrors, a stunning custom glass tabletop, and a completely unique shower glass door.

The home has a highly curated ambiance from the moment you enter the front door as from the color story, to the pattern, purpose, and energy. You walk past seven grayscale butterfly artworks, into my jungle-themed living room, through my ‘Secret Garden’ dining room, and finally, you get to the whimsical backyard. Plus, we added amazing sound for ambiance, with Gadget AV solutions.

In collaboration with LeNoble Lumber, my favorite construction supplier, my team and I milled wood in the backyard to build out all the closets and the backyard space. We created the ultimate mood, calling it our enchanted garden with LED rainbow and string lights, an innovative bar featuring my Arc tile collection, an egg chair from Lighting World Decor, and a glass bar top featuring my favorite John Lennon quote. We worked with Edge Landscape to outfit the yard with bluestone and ivy to complete the space.

We designed every room using luxury decor from my wallpaper collection with Sur La Mur, to custom fixtures from NSA lighting, as well as magnificent furniture from Modshop, gorgeous decorative accents from Mehlrose NY, and award-winning tile collections with Tilebar. We also created custom statement window shades for every room with NV Window Treatments.

We added a feature wall next to my studio to showcase all my products including clutches, belts, backpacks, and puzzles, so that clients and buyers visiting the space can see everything properly showcased.

Lauren: It seems everything takes much longer than anticipated these days due to supply chain issues. How long did the renovation take you and your team?

Sutton: The whole thing would have taken most people a year. It took us four months. We pulled off a miracle.

Lauren: Do you have any additional plans for the space?

Sutton: We are still waiting for a few finishing touches. I regularly rotate out the artwork. So that will always change within the space. I am also newly addicted to floral arrangements from Fleur La Table which I change weekly because fresh flowers bring all design elements to life.

Lauren: Most landlords will not allow this level of renovation. How did you manage to negotiate this into your lease?

Sutton: My broker was the liaison between myself and the landlord throughout the negotiations. I signed quickly without seeing the space in person because I was told there was another offer. I made it clear to my broker what my intentions were, but didn’t have a formal conversation with the landlord about the plans until after I signed.

They didn’t have a problem with me putting up wallpaper. Their biggest concern was that I bring everything back to its original state, but I’ve added tons of value. The bones of the building are really special, but it definitely needed work. It is always helpful when you have a great landlord.

Lauren: Do you have any tips for truly transforming a home that isn’t necessarily your style and making it your own?

Sutton: It depends on what about the home specifically doesn’t align with your style. Is it the tile, flooring, bathrooms, moldings, paint colors, lighting, or something else?

My advice is, don’t do what I did and rush the process. I needed to get it together quickly for work purposes. If you own the home, enhance it one room at a time. First, focus on the bones, and starting with the rooms you spend the most time in. A fresh coat of paint can go a long way. Lighting is very important as a base, as it has the ability to truly make a space feel way larger. Flooring and tiles come next. Only then would I focus my dollars on fixtures, furniture and equipment.

If you are renting, I would do the opposite. Focus your dollars and the things you can remove once you leave such as furniture, art, peel-and-stick wallpaper, throw pillows, blankets, and other decorative items.

Lauren: Do you have any tips to share about creating spaces with a lot of color tastefully?

Sutton: I love working with neutral furniture and adding color everywhere else, but balance is essential. The colors need to be complimentary. If you have very colorful art, wallpaper, and decorative accents, keep the furniture neutral. If you have colorful furniture, I’d keep the art and wallpaper neutral. Emerald pairs beautifully with lavenders and sorbets. Brights always balance well with pure black and white. I love pastels mixed with greyscale, and jewel tones mixed with beiges and siennas.

Amanda Lauren

I am a writer, design expert, host of the podcast Bougie Adjacent, and comedic performer. I also created an online course that teaches small business how to pitch writers called Pitch Please. Originally from the Upper East Side of Manhattan, I currently live in the Hancock Park neighborhood of Los Angeles, but spend summers in The Hamptons. I am absolutely fascinated by all aspects of décor and design. It once took me six months to choose a soap dispenser and I can’t even remember what it looked like. I like bright prints, southern exposure and any location you can call a “village or town.” There are currently over 100 episodes of House Hunters on my DVR.

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The gastronomic dinner at Ducasse sur Seine on a full electric boat, completely silent. We enjoyed a four-course menu with wine pairing, while taking in the sights of Paris’s most iconic monuments from a unique vantage point along the Seine.
Nicole Blackburn of Ocean Reef glammed it up for our last Fountainhead dinner in Paris together. Photo by Eliot Hess
Eliot captured the Parisian appeal
Teresa Enriquez, Executive Chief Assistant Public Defender of Recruitment and Litigation, Miami-Dade Public Defender’s Office and
Sarah Bartesaghi Truong | Founder, Venividi, Paris
. Photo by Eliot Hess.
Not easy getting all of us together. Two still missing

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The bottom of the opera house which sits on the Seine. We took a peek at the river.
Lulama Wolf, Johannesburg, South Africa
The Breeder Gallery, Athens, Greece

“More Of That—More Of Less”
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Photo By Teresa Enriques