Category Archives: Franklin’s Obituary Column

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.

How do you say “which way to the sex rehab center? ” in Norwegian?

We know they caught the guy and all, but still, is this uncanny or what? Does DD have a young Scandinavian twin? Or did he suddenly just go all blonde and wacko on us? Could Dana Scully please get her ass over here? Man, we are afraid. We are VERY afraid.

So long, Lucian. It’s been good.

We pause from design hilarity for a moment to note the passing of Lucian Freud, the grandson of Sigmund. Bloss thinks anyone who can make Elizabeth look like this deserves the long productive life and all the adulation that he received. Plus of course there were those forty illegitimate kids.

Beloved Betty


Betty Ford was never a gay icon, like most of the dead people we feature here on Bloss, but she did have a lot of addictions and she looked fabulous, and there’s always that famous clinic. Isn’t that where Liz met Larry Fortensky? I mean, come on. How gay was that? Anyway, Betty, even saddled with the somewhat less than genius Gerry,  managed in some strange slow inevitable way to become an unassailable beacon of public service. She looked great and she did good. She lived to be 93, and always looked like she was having a good time. It’s tough to do better than that.