Issue link: http://papercitymagazine.uberflip.com/i/1542301
Letter from the Editor I don't know about you, but inevitably when I scroll and scroll … and scroll some more as I start my morning, Instagram has become my desktop quote- of-the-day source (those under the age of 30 probably have no idea what I'm referring to …). One Insta story gave me a laugh and has stuck with me for the past week: "Actually, I don't want a new year this time around, I want a gently used year like 1995 or maybe a 1980 if it's in good shape …" Yes, that's what I want — 1995. When I was living in New York City and my life was filled with catching the latest effortlessly edgy Peter Greenaway flick at the Forum or Angelika … or heading downtown for the newest exhibition opening party at Paula Cooper or Mary Boone gallery (yes, the era before dreaded au courant mega-galleries, when artists weren't as commercial, producing works for upcoming art-fair behemoths like Miami Basel or Frieze) and then dinner with a couple of black-clad gallerinas at Felix or Fanelli Cafe. And, of course, being a barfly at the oh-so chic lounges of the time, such as Bar 89 (which had a unisex bathroom with clear stalls that seemed voyeuristic and lurid until you closed the latch and the glass fogged up), Spy, Wax, and, if dragged there, Pravda … Wearing some ensemble likely designed by one of the members of the Antwerp Six that I scored at Barneys downtown (on sale, since I was a poor-as- a-church-mouse grad student). Before you is our extravagant travel issue, filled with our recs on hotels to rest your weary jet-setter head in places such as Portofino, London, New York City, and Sicily. Remembering my time in NYC and looking at the pics of one of the grandest of grandes dames, the Waldorf Astoria New York (which has undergone a $2 billion, eight-year facelift, and recently reopened) has inspired me to make a pilgrimage early this year. That said, I quickly texted one of my besties, Ann Hobson, and asked her to do a group text with her two daughters, Blake and Kathleen, who are doing now what we did in our 20s: living their best lives in the city that never sleeps. The reason for the text: I don't have the energy or bandwidth to know the cool insidery bars to try to gain access to. After some rapid- fire texts, they landed on these spots as the watering holes: Temple Bar, Sloane's, and The Mulberry. I was pleased to hear that all are in SoHo, which means it's still the epicenter for chic cocktails and where those in the know — whether they're making their way from the Upper East Side or one of the outer boroughs — are heading. I hope to see you soon — which might mean February, since I'm attempting dryish January to give my liver a rest after the bemusing bedlam of holiday soirées. Perhaps I'll whip out one of those '90s-era outfits that made me look like a supporting character from Reservoir Dogs (granted, with slimmer tailoring). Let me know if you're embracing 2026 or doing a wash, rinse, and repeat of 1995 like me. Cheers, Billy Fong Dallas Editor in Chief billy@papercitymag.com Billy Fong at Crystal Charity Ball 2025 JAMES FRENCH 36