Literary Fashion: Dear Mrs. Winterbloom

The studio. Smaller than I'd imagined, more people than I'd imagined as well. A table full of breakfast fixings, I took tea in a packet that matched my current hair color and shocked me with its delicately floral, berry sweetened scent when I dipped my nose into the cup for a sip. Meeting with the execs, the minor execs, and a wardrobe maven that brought to mind images of a corporate bird of paradise. A peek in at the writers hashing out last minute hiccups in the script, plans for a read through later this afternoon. All in all, more attention was paid to me in 4 hours than I'd ever received in my entire life. Funny how things worked like that- one day, you're kissing ass with your child psychology professor in hopes that your midterm grade might be bumped up a few points, and the next you're hopelessly searching for memories of that jargon you'd forgotten when being lectured on the mission statement of the children's television show you'll be hosting.

Amandine hosts a popular local children's television show on their city's PBS station, where she gets to dress up and talk to puppets--essentially the best job ever, if you keep a healthy sense of irony about the production. She loves the Union Square greenmarket in the summer, buying weird art off of street vendors, and fighting with her tarot deck.




Clear blue eyes behind cat-eyed frames overhung with heavy auburn bangs. Kittenlike features, pointy nose and chin when she uncovers them. Black and white striped shirt matching her sneakers, serviceable jeans covering a softly curved form, bare arms covered in indeterminate splashes of tan jade green red turquoise on the left, jeweled toned swirls on the right. A smudge of green on her cheek, more of the same on her hands, including three nails painted the same hue.

Havela Silver, called Ava, is a sculptor and puppeteer at Chimera Studios. She enjoys making faces at the animals in the Central Park Zoo, chalking trenchant literary quotes in unexpected places, and learning how to make excellent crepes from her best friend at work, Asher.




That first Monday morning of spring break, I showed my Mama our homework assignment for art class. I don't have a problem with Picasso, I like what he does with color and whirly lines. But my mother had other ideas...

Sarah Jane lives in Brooklyn with her moms and her goldfish, Alice B. Toklas. (She inherited the goldfish.) She likes gold stars, watercolors, and watching babies hold conversations with inanimate objects.

And one last family set, for the road: