Kiss today goodbye. Point me toward tomorrow.

Monday Feb 13 to Friday Feb 17. The final days of Moss in Soho.

Hey, everybody, come on down to Moss during this, our final week on Greene Street, where, no matter what you’re heard, we’re NOT having a sale. However, as a wee we’re-moving-uptown-to-the-garment-district gift, you can get a fabulous Moss T-shirt with any purchase over $118. (Yes, for Free!) The 18 is for the eighteen years we’ve been here in Soho. As you no doubt know, the phrases on the t-shirts are all rules to shop by as dictated by us. Choose from the spicy Please Do Not Touch, the paparazzi-hating Photography is Not Permitted, and the subtly anti-child message Small Children Must Be Held.

In case you’re just too important or too tired or recovering from recent hip surgery and just cannot make it down to the Last Days of the Design Mecca of the World, then you can always do it the old fashioned way and just buy a t-shirt, by clicking on any of these lovely pics. Supplies are limited. Just like the days we’ll be in Soho.

The countdown begins

Moss Greene Street location closes on Friday Feb 17. New location opens March 1. 256 West 36th Street, 10th Floor. Same phone, same email, same attitude.

Party of the Last Part

Join us for the last opening of the last exhibition at our space on Greene Street. Scout some gorgeous jewelry from Giuliana Michelotti, just in time for guilty Valentine’s Day shopping.

The next invite you get from us will be to an exhibition at our new space, the address of which will be announced tomorrow. Stay tuned, partygoers.

And don’t forget to rsvp.

First Mark Twain, Now Moss


Yes, yes, we’re closing the Greene Street gallery, it’s true. But Moss is MOVING not closing. We’re going to an office/showroom in midtown. We’ll announce exactly where shortly. We’re going to redo the website, so it’ll be more complete and easier to buy. All credits will be honored. Plus we’re opening a new consulting business, called Moss Bureau. What’s the opposite of dead?

In honor of the world’s worst ship’s captain ever


Just as it seems the story could not possibly get any worse or the behavior of ship-abandoning lifeboat-tripping mullet-wearing passenger-killing Francesco Schettino become any more irresponsible, we learned today that the theme song from the Titanic movie was playing as the Costa Condordia went down. In one of the dining rooms. In which the crew urged the passengers to stay, saying nothing was wrong. Right.

You’ve heard about that Brad Pitt movie, the Tree of Life? Well, here’s the Tree of Aluminum.


You know that old phrase, right? Life is like aluminum? That’s what they say. Bloss has heard it a hundred times. And it’s never made more sense than now. And look, Brad, look at all those little cast aluminum leaves that this tree is made of. Ten thousand of them suckers. Welded together by the artist. Andrea Salvetti. His tree is 10 feet high and 15 feet in diameter. And get this, to put it together, someone has to spend some quality time working inside the trunk and then has to crawl out through a teeny tiny door you can’t see. I can give you a hint. It wasn’t Andrea. At Moss now. It’s like a breath of fresh aluminum.

Corian makes a great kitchen counter, sure, but a ring? Really?


Yessiree. Fresh for 2012, Moss has a boxful of lovely little rings made in Corian and lined with felt of many colors. Red, orange, blue, purple, yellow, black, green and chartreuse, to be exact. If you’ve ever wanted your hand to just kind of disappear when you’re in a modern kitchen, (and, really, who hasn’t?)
this is your chance. They’re only $65 each so you could get one for each finger. Or for each day of the week. Or some for day, some for night. Or uptown/downtown, Manhattan/Brooklyn. How about one for each failed Republican presidential candidate. Bloss could go on and on. But Bloss won’t.

2012 is going to be better than 2011, yes?

Well, for one thing, there won’t be any mimes.

As you know, children are always welcome at Moss. Especially when they’re asleep.

Shopping for exquisitely designed and perfect gifts can be so exhausting, especially on the day before the day before Christmas. So here’s little Alexandro, so tired he’s dropped like a stone, right in front of the black leather Citterio sofa (designed in 1979, available for $20,000, and worth every penny). Sweet kid. He can come back anytime.