Crafted from carbs and the loaves they loathe. Leave it to Nicholas Mendise to dress these society women with garments which, though never passing their lips, alternately have found themselves atop their haughty heads. Sourdough, tuscan, and pumpernickel à la Amy’s Bread, these loaves channel the famine of the great depression and, like peasants once standing in line awaiting rations of bread, wait patiently in queue to be photographed for editorial.
He is a genius, is he not?
