While I lived in New York, freelancing as a writer and finishing up a BA in Pseudo-Intellectual Masturbation, I had a zoo of vintage fur muffs: sheared rabbit dyed to look like leopard, choco mink, and the wildest wiry black pelt, all lined in satin and interior pockets. Fur muffs are genius: why fumble with gloves and a bag when you could slip in and out of something so chic?

I dig this Sang A fox fur muff for its form and function, though I’m back in Hollywood, where it’s considered a stay-at-home snow day if it rains…

Wanting.

It’s more than a Birkin, but a little less than a down payment on a flat. That crackly croc has got me…

Wearing.

I love being a human: I weigh 69 lbs. but I punch a computer key, and I’ve a dead anaconda in my clutches…

Hating.

The patchwork mink is a little fash victim/Beyonce to me, but given the choice, I’d take it. Like her ass…