Gold stars to anyone who can guess which December cover girl is the owner of the lush, beyond-gravity rack on display.

The correct answer will be revealed on Friday.

If you were having one of those I’ve-had-it-with-New-York-Fuckin’-City days in which you resolve to get the hell out — Really! I mean it this time! I’m outta here! — would New York Mag’s most recent annual love letter do the trick and keep you in Gotham for a little bit longer? Personally speaking, had “Reasons to Love New York (Especially Right Now)” arrived in August when the city had basically beaten me to a pulp, I’m not sure I would have swooned. Jackhammers woke me every morning at 7AM. My editors weren’t returning my calls. And I hated all my clothes. (Mr. MILF, thank Bloomberg, remained hot, supportive and gainfully employed.) Eventually, I realized I pretty much had nowhere to go — too few peeps in L.A., too much fear of the ‘burbs, too little opportunity for my meal-ticket in Paris — which was both depressing and validating. And I think that’s where the magazine’s efforts stand this year — it won’t make you want to renew your vows if you are contemplating divorce, but it will certainly reaffirm what made you love this concrete jungle in the first place, and why, when you get out of your funk, your love will intensify, and why, once the bug has infected your entire being, you really can’t ever leave. Unless your job disappeared. Then you need to exorcise the ghost. Sorry.

Wouldn’t this be a dope DIY project to keep you occupied — and thinking green and sporty — over the holidays? Of course, if you are like me and you don’t make anything, you can inquire with designer Max Knight about commissioning your own custom set of wheels. I’m thinking about a White Stripes bike — snowy frame and scarlet Converse high-tops!

www.arkitip.com

Have you ever experienced a shopping crush? You know, when you can’t stop watching a girl you don’t know try something on because you love her style and because you love what she’s picked up off the rack — and you can’t believe you didn’t spot it yourself? And then you try to start a conversation with her by offering your opinion of how awesome the dress/top/jacket looks on her? Well, there I was, at the warehouse sale that was the Barneys Madison Avenue flagship this past Saturday, sprawled on a fourth-floor couch, awaiting the bill for a gorgeous pair of eggplant Prada peep-toe stilettos and feeling like pretty hot shopping shit for my score. Then I saw her. Tall and slim, she wore illustrated canvas high tops with inside-ankle-zip jeans and one of those floppy knit hats that look horrible on everybody but her. As if all that weren’t enough, she sourced these amazing Viktor & Rolf patent-leather boots. Last pair. Total perfection. I can’t stop thinking about them. Or her.