Remember those fantastic women you got to meet in December when Gucci launched their pre-fall collection? The clothes were so charismatic that it was borderline impossible not to assign character traits to each of them. In the event that you have no idea what I’m talking about, I invite you to click here. If you do recall their foray into life, surprise! All ten women are back, and have evolved at an impressively rapid pace — emotionally, intellectually, stylistically — over the past six months.
Here, for example, is Sanpietra von Gufftenschaefen — back and better than ever. You may recall that her real name is Ethel Baker, which is important intel given the entire basis of why she changed her name (one time, she went to the post office to deliver a letter by hand while wearing a gown and thought, you know what? I make a much better Sanpietra than I do an Ethel).
You can’t knock a woman for, you know, leaning in and dressing for the role she wants to live. On the contrary, you can do nothing but applaud her, so applaud we shall. Since her time as a postmaster, von Gufftenschaefen has assumed various changes to her narrative. Where she used to live in a small studio on the Upper West Side, she now occupies a small storefront, that at one point sold chandeliers (at another, it sold photography film) in Bushwick, Brooklyn. She eats kelp exclusively and has completely banned the words, “What?” and “Sorry” from her lexicon. (She’s replaced them both with “pardon.”) As of Monday, she was seen with multiple boxes by a USPS mailbox, rallying against the imminent possibility of a British exit from the European Union, citing a sincere fondness and affinity for a kingdom she’s never actually visited, but where she plans to raise a herd of cockerspaniels at some point.
Beata, who you might remember as the original author of a favorite children’s book, finally won the intellectual property lawsuit she was always going on about and has, as a result, collected $2 million in damages. With that capital, she has been able to acquire rights to a grass wall baked into a meditation center in Greenwich Village where she spends the majority of her days taking wheatgrass shots and posing for photographs by unassuming photographers employed by Man Repeller. She also, I might add, owns a pair of sunglasses which are technically glued to her face using a technology that cost her a fairly-sized chunk of the change she had won. “It was worth it,” Beata told me in an exclusive interview. “Without these sunglasses, my face is just a face.”
Revived by the return of the tree-centric story to Beata’s name (never mind the pesky lawyer fee), her creativity was restored, a new book was written, and thus “My Face Was Just a Face” is set to release in August 2017.
Alexandra stopped executing massages. As a matter of fact, she stopped wearing neck scarves, too. She said it made her fingers hurt and her neck stiff (in that order) and has thus reverted to botany, where she truly excels as a creative visionary in the art of manufacturing arrangements of both greenery and flowers. My understanding, given our conversation, has been that she refuses to wear garments that don’t pay homage to her work with florets, aptly on display in the imagery above, but you will be thrilled to learn that she has announced imminent nuptials to a geranium named Gerry. The two are slated to marry in Water Mill, New York on February 30th. Gerry picked the date. Alexandra asked no questions. She will wear every piece from Gucci’s capsule garden collection.
If you’ll believe it, when Greta set out to become a facupuncturist, she was sure that she could fancy herself a pioneer of the trade — its foremother, if you will, but as her client base grew from 8 to 10 people in what felt like a matter of seconds but was actually a very long and taxing five months, she learned that “facupuncture” is not unlike a fairly common trade called “teaching.” Unfortunately for her, she sold all 16 of her cats to set up the practice, now largely defunct. She’s been applying for jobs across a multitude of verticals for the past two months and in the mean time, has moved into a pet shop on Second Avenue called “Happy Paws,” where she is earning $9 an hour as the official host of the cat food (both refrigerated and not!) aisle. “A leopard can’t change its stripes,” she said to me in an interview. I believe she meant spots, and that the leopard is a metaphor for her bygone cats.
You may remember Matilda as an anti-pants lobbyist. She’s still going strong on that accord, espousing the benefits of comfort as a state of mind, existence and physical setting — sitting atop a piano located in Soho, where she uses the housing and lid on which she sits to store multiple comfort facilitators, like the neck pillow she once kept in her handbag. Not pictured are her toenail clippers (used to snip split ends to keep her cut blunt and precise beneath the beret — a cultural talisman borrowed from the French in spite of her Italian descent) and child. Yes indeed, in the months since we’ve last seen her in a military coat, she’s birthed a youth who she now calls Irene, though it is spelled Ghghghghghghghghighreighnegh. “The gh’s are silenzioso,” she told me.
The Gucci Garden capsule collection is available for purchase through Gucci.com.
Follow our models on Instagram: Cleo Davis-Urman @misscleoviolet, Mari Giudicelli @marigiudicelli, Jennifer Mutasa @jmutasa and Kisha Bwenge @cocoa_quiche. Special thank you to MNDFL, Green Fingers, Happy Paws, and Antique Garage for providing the background settings. Photographed by Krista Anna Lewis.