Sloane Crosley: Ruining It For Real Writers Everywhere

I know it's impolite and politically incorrect to indicate that someone who is actually writing and publishing books is *not* really a writer, and so I will avoid refuting the obvious. That said, 32-year-old Sloane Crosley makes me want to holler out the window of serious writing. Single handedly she has made it all the more difficult for serious writers to be taken seriously. I mean, is she that tone deaf and/or blind to her new role as writer (as opposed to her "old role" as publicist)?  Does she not know that never the twain are supposed to meet?  Especially not in one well-clad wardrobe?  Are there no mirrors in her house? The article of which I complain is entitled "What I Wore" (mostly to brunch and drinks, BTW) and appears in today's New York Times' Style Section. I hold it out to you as proof that writing is dead, and Sloane Crosley is holding the stiletto that stabbed us all in the heart. Here's a mind-destroying, name-dropping highlight just for you:

Sunday Jan 2: I went to Elephant & Castle in Levi’s jeans, a Kain T-shirt, Roberto Del Carlo boots and Cutler and Gross glasses. For the rest of the day I read, wrote and watched edited incarnations of movies I actually own on TV. This doesn’t require much in the way of accessories aside from a lint roller for my lap. At night I took a friend to drinks at Old Town and dinner at Max wearing gray Converse, a vest from Les Prairies de Paris and a tote bag from Essex Street Market, with a vintage Balmain scarf of my mom’s tied to it. 

Monday, Jan 3: After splashing coffee on myself at Café Grumpy, I spent the morning at the library wearing a Uniqlo button-down, Reiss sweater, Chloé pants and Prada shoes. I also spent it working. Otherwise, that would just be bad performance art. I had lunch with an editor at Má Pêche, where I got pickled vegetables on my pants. Apparently I have an eating disorder like Ted Striker has a drinking problem. Luckily I was carrying a patent-leather Coach bucket bag that looks like an oil spill and is immune to absorption. 

Tuesday, Jan 4: I had a 9 a.m. breakfast with my friend Elizabeth Spiers at Morandi. As we both work from home, we’ve decided to do this twice a week in 2011. I wore Uniqlo tights, Valentino flats, a polka-dot dress by Lewis Cho and a Burberry coat. Then to the library again, but I left in the afternoon to come home and write in white Helmut Lang jeans and a blue Rag & Bone button-down.

Truly, truly (and for so many, many reasons that I can't go into right now) this makes me sad.