The owner of this Gucci messenger bag was clad in mostly something else:
A head-to-toe, Latin-to-Calculus outfit cribbed exclusively from Rugby Ralph Lauren. Covered in skulls and cross-stitched in cashmere, his whole blue-and-cream existence waits for the blur of the L train to smear by and stop.
So what’s the deal with the Gucci pack?
Is it the only shade of ivory that matches Ralph’s top stitch? Is it an earmark for the eventual trade-in of those duck boots for G-stamped loafers? Or does it cost the same as a Metro Card?
[ROMY MADLEY CROFT - AM I THE IMAGINARY SOCIALITE?]