Christina Onassis, 5 years old, Paris, 1957 by Alejo Vidal-Quadras
Who is your own worst enemy? I am mine, I am mine. It's last night, it's too late, it's still 80°F (feels like 81°F), and I'm doing the old knock it down, kick it in the teeth, followed by the required resurrection, the phoenix that grows from the quick, easily forgotten moment of self-possession. Will it work? Goddamn, one of these days, its just got to. These wild, white hairs aren't dyeing themselves.