Wayfarers

If I were a Joan Didion type, the recent apocalyptic fires and heat waves in California would have inspired me to write about the strange effects on Angelenos, the ash on the street and the yellow halo around downtown L.A. As it was, I just shut the doors, ran the AC, went to bed at 7:30 p.m. and scratched my eczema, longing for cool, dark German forests. Now I have emerged and realized I survived the summer completely without Wayfarers. And this while reading "The Informants," where the word Wayfarer appears on every third page. In fact, I was relieved I didn't buy any when all the idiot kids on the season premiere of "90210" sported turquoise, pink and yellow versions. Gag me with a spoon. Like, totally.