Martin Scorsese’s Netflix series of conversations with this slightly fearsome – and to be frank, grumpy old lady – has brightened my days

Like a lot of New Yorkers, I have a Fran Lebowitz story – not a classic one, but it gives a flavour of the woman. It was the early noughties, and I was walking out of a fashion show. Among the celebrities dolled up like birds of paradise, a more pigeonesque figure in a pair of jeans and a blue blazer stood out. “Oh my God, that’s Fran Lebowitz!” I gasped, inwardly and outwardly. As she started to light her cigarette, someone told her to wait until she was outside.

“Oh, for God’s sake,” she said, and stomped off.

Continue reading…

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

You May Also Like