“Chickens are the new frontier,” the architect Pietro Cicognani tells me, as he barrels down the Long Island Expressway at top speed. “There’s a chicken war in the Hamptons. People don’t want Bentleys or haute couture. They want to save endangered heritage chickens.” I’ve known Cicognani for decades. In addition to his considerable architectural chops, he is one of New York’s great charmers and gives easily the best bear hug in the city. (He comes by bear-hugging honestly: His grandmother was the daughter of Piotr Stolypin, one of Russia’s last prime ministers under the tsars.) Cicognani’s work draws from an eclectic mix of architects and styles, including Louis Kahn, Alvar Aalto, Islamic architecture, and his beloved Baroque. His commissions are also eclectic and remarkable, including a church in Venice, which he is about to convert into a family residence, a private mausoleum in Delaware, and his own apartment in Rome. Lately, though, Cicognani has become the master of the high-end, top-of-the-line, brilliantly over-the-top chicken coop. And today I am to behold his greatest masterpiece to date.
هذه القصة مأخوذة من طبعة April 2022 من Town & Country.
ابدأ النسخة التجريبية المجانية من Magzter GOLD لمدة 7 أيام للوصول إلى آلاف القصص المتميزة المنسقة وأكثر من 9,000 مجلة وصحيفة.
بالفعل مشترك ? تسجيل الدخول
هذه القصة مأخوذة من طبعة April 2022 من Town & Country.
ابدأ النسخة التجريبية المجانية من Magzter GOLD لمدة 7 أيام للوصول إلى آلاف القصص المتميزة المنسقة وأكثر من 9,000 مجلة وصحيفة.
بالفعل مشترك? تسجيل الدخول
Come On A My Palazzo - Marcantonio Brandolini grew up within these historic walls, skateboarding through his family's 15th-century Gothic home. Now, from ground floor offices that are more Venice Beach than Doge's Palace, he leads an artisanal incubator that may just save the lagoon from oblivion.
A few years ago, when I was writing a novel about reckless young men in Venice, I stumbled upon a photo online that conjured the spirit of my characters. In it, a scruffy-haired twentysomething sits precariously on the edge of a palazzo rooftop, staring out over the city as if he owns the place. Later I discovered that the young man in that photo wasn’t a random backpacker but Marcantonio Brandolini d’Adda, descendant of one of Venice’s most noble and socially well-connected families. The rooftop on which he’s perched is his family’s majestic 15th-century Gothic palazzo on the Grand Canal. By most definitions, the handsome young man in the photo really does own the place.
That Seat Is Saved - Some couples have a new, must on their invite list, and it isn't who you might expect.
When Marielle Mathe Brookner arrived at FedEx to pick up her wedding invitations, the bride-to-be wasn’t thrilled with their color. “I’m devastated,” she recalls thinking. “I really need to get these out as soon as possible.”Brookner successfully persuaded the retailer to print new copies, but she didn’t let her original invites go to waste. Instead she decided to invite some atypical guests to her November nuptials: Disney, Ben & Jerry’s, and In-NOut Burger, among other brands. She knew Mickey and Minnie Mouse were unlikely to take up room on her seating chart; the 28-year-old realtor “did it mostly for fun.”
Can a Car Have Sprezzatura - The new Maserati convertibles are made for our times.
Sure, we can wax poetic on all of the impressive virtues of the new Maserati GranCabrio Folgore, the first all electric convertible in its class. A canvas top that opens in 14 seconds. Those sumptuous interiors, made from the same quality recycled fabric Prada uses. The range of gorgeous colors (choose from 27, or make it bespoke like an OG). The 818 horsepower that propels it from 0 to 60 in 2.7 seconds, which also makes it the fastest electric convertible in the world right now (fitting, since folgore is Italian for lightning). And that signature Maserati engine roar, specially engineered— and delivered through a state-of-the-art sound system—to mimic the vroom of the Folgore’s gas-powered V6 sister, the Trofeo.
Best Friends Forever...and Ever, and Ever, and Ever - From celebs to finance bros, everyone suddenly seems to think an NAD+ drip is the secret to eternal youth. Could they be right?
In the last couple of years there has been a steady drip (ahem) of content—studies, message board buzz, Huberman Lab podcast episodes—feeding the NAD+ frenzy. “Ever since Jennifer Aniston talked about it being the reason she’s never felt better, it’s been an ‘I’ll have what she’s having’ moment,” says one woman who can best be described as Los Angeles royalty. “But the drips take hours. Snore. I can’t decide if it’s worth it.”
The Etiquette of Dissent - What happens if your candidate loses the election? Fortunately, examples of civilized-and productiveways to handle it abound.
The etiquette of living in dissent thereafter, especially if it goes on for a long time, is another matter. In theory, we are supposed to learn how to be good losers as kids. Athletic leagues give out sportsmanship awards, and institutions like the Scouts try to coach their members toward grace in defeat. Both aim to teach us how to live on the outs, perhaps drawing upon the British public school attitude of let’s-all-pull-together-for-the-empire. (The out-of-power party in the UK is even known as “His Majesty’s Most Loyal Opposition.”) In the American ideal, we metaphorically line up and shake hands after the softball game, and then square off again on another day. In practice, what some people do is accuse the other team of cheating and try to get the umpire fired.
So What's New?
How a 166-year-old jewelry house keeps the world guessing.
You're Right Here
A new collection reminds us that life is a journey worth celebrating, Ideally with diamonds and gold.
For Your Eyes Only
A small wedding has many charms. Here are 27 of them.
People We Like
A few concessions are required (sorry, Uncle Bob!), but a small wedding may be the best way to get exactly what you want.
Our Gift to You
Sunblock and snacks? Nice try. The latest flex is for couples to shower their guests with highly curated, and very pricey, welcome bags.
