I just ran into an old… um, friend? What do you call a person who mercifully pulled over and offered you a ride home when, four years ago, you were walking along North Avenue in the dark, in the about-to-start-pouring rain, holding two overflowing bags from Whole Foods while trying to balance an umbrella under your armpit, because the bus was JUST driving off as you approached the gosh-darn stop?! I think that person is called a friend. (Normally, I don’t hitchhike, but this woman had “good person” written all over her face—and let’s face it, I was desperate.) I ran into Evelyn Daitchman at the studio of artist Michael Thompson (whose super-cool and interesting space will be featured in our November/December issue). She is a massage therapist and has all sorts of celebrity clients, but she’s also a collector of vintage clothing, fabric, and dishes. She sells her wares (the home stuff has a fun Anthropologie feel) out of Thompson’s loft space and at the Randolph Street Flea Market. Look for the name Jackie Ono. Here’s to the kindness of strangers!
—Gina Bazer
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I just ran into an old… um, friend? What do you call a person who mercifully pulled over and offered you a ride home when, four years ago, you were walking along North Avenue in the dark, in the about-to-start-pouring rain, holding two overflowing bags from Whole Foods while trying to balance an umbrella under your armpit, because the bus was JUST driving off as you approached the gosh-darn stop?! I think that person is called a friend. (Normally, I don’t hitchhike, but this woman had “good person” written all over her face—and let’s face it, I was desperate.) I ran into Evelyn Daitchman at the studio of artist Michael Thompson (whose super-cool and interesting space will be featured in our November/December issue). She is a massage therapist and has all sorts of celebrity clients, but she’s also a collector of vintage clothing, fabric, and dishes. She sells her wares (the home stuff has a fun Anthropologie feel) out of Thompson’s loft space and at the Randolph Street Flea Market. Look for the name Jackie Ono. Here’s to the kindness of strangers!
—Gina Bazer
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I just ran into an old… um, friend? What do you call a person who mercifully pulled over and offered you a ride home when, four years ago, you were walking along North Avenue in the dark, in the about-to-start-pouring rain, holding two overflowing bags from Whole Foods while trying to balance an umbrella under your armpit, because the bus was JUST driving off as you approached the gosh-darn stop?! I think that person is called a friend. (Normally, I don’t hitchhike, but this woman had “good person” written all over her face—and let’s face it, I was desperate.) I ran into Evelyn Daitchman at the studio of artist Michael Thompson (whose super-cool and interesting space will be featured in our November/December issue). She is a massage therapist and has all sorts of celebrity clients, but she’s also a collector of vintage clothing, fabric, and dishes. She sells her wares (the home stuff has a fun Anthropologie feel) out of Thompson’s loft space and at the Randolph Street Flea Market. Look for the name Jackie Ono. Here’s to the kindness of strangers!
I just ran into an old… um, friend? What do you call a person who mercifully pulled over and offered you a ride home when, four years ago, you were walking along North Avenue in the dark, in the about-to-start-pouring rain, holding two overflowing bags from Whole Foods while trying to balance an umbrella under your armpit, because the bus was JUST driving off as you approached the gosh-darn stop?! I think that person is called a friend. (Normally, I don’t hitchhike, but this woman had “good person” written all over her face—and let’s face it, I was desperate.) I ran into Evelyn Daitchman at the studio of artist Michael Thompson (whose super-cool and interesting space will be featured in our November/December issue). She is a massage therapist and has all sorts of celebrity clients, but she’s also a collector of vintage clothing, fabric, and dishes. She sells her wares (the home stuff has a fun Anthropologie feel) out of Thompson’s loft space and at the Randolph Street Flea Market. Look for the name Jackie Ono. Here’s to the kindness of strangers!
—Gina Bazer
July 31, 2008, 9:07 am
I just ran into an old… um, friend? What do you call a person who mercifully pulled over and offered you a ride home when, four years ago, you were walking along North Avenue in the dark, in the about-to-start-pouring rain, holding two overflowing bags from Whole Foods while trying to balance an umbrella under your armpit, because the bus was JUST driving off as you approached the gosh-darn stop?! I think that person is called a friend. (Normally, I don’t hitchhike, but this woman had “good person” written all over her face—and let’s face it, I was desperate.) I ran into Evelyn Daitchman at the studio of artist Michael Thompson (whose super-cool and interesting space will be featured in our November/December issue). She is a massage therapist and has all sorts of celebrity clients, but she’s also a collector of vintage clothing, fabric, and dishes. She sells her wares (the home stuff has a fun Anthropologie feel) out of Thompson’s loft space and at the Randolph Street Flea Market. Look for the name Jackie Ono. Here’s to the kindness of strangers!
