· WOMEN WHO DIRECT. I saw two fine independent films, Higher Ground and The Hedgehog, both of which turned out to be “helmed” (forgive the Variety vocabulary) by women. Each had a sensuous texture and a high regard for silences; the directors managed to convey a great deal without dialogue (or high-speed collisions).
· UNIQLO. I stood in line for an hour at the Soho store to get in on the final (sob) season of +J, the Jil Sander-designed line. The takehome: two pairs of black fleece-lined knit leggings ($40) and two zip jackets ($50), black and navy, beautifully cut. You might say from the look of it that I am in mourning.
· TUBE-O-RAMA. On to fall TV! I’m welcoming the return of The Good Wife (but why did they move it to Sunday? Grrr. It will bump into Dexter and other things) and Grey’s Anatomy (guilty pleasure). As for the new shows, judging from the buzz, I’ll try Pan Am (ABC) and Prime Suspect (NBC), though I can’t imagine the latter holds a candle to the original.
· BOOKINGS. I belatedly read an acclaimed mystery, Crooked Letter, Crooked Letter, by Tom Franklin. Says more about race and Southern culture than most “regular” novels. Another mystery, The End of the Wasp Season by Denise Mina, is, similarly, far more than your standard thriller. This gritty, feminist Scottish writer has a compelling voice, and she also has ideas, without ever turning overly didactic. I’ll be reviewing it soon on bookreporter.com. Finally, Before I Go to Sleep is a first novel by S.J. Watson, with an amnesia theme that becomes ever more fascinatingly convoluted.