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Frette sneak peak: Boston Fashion Week Day 7

I have no clue what day it is, but I do know it’s almost over. Fashion Week, that is. That’s not to say that I’m not thoroughly enjoying myself this week, but my liver and I had a chat last night, and it’s not happy with me.

Day seven of Boston Fashion Week had me once again running around like a madwoman and trying hard to form coherent sentences while doing it. I woke up in the outfit I wore to bed the night before — no judging; I know you’ve all done it. Thankfully, I’d remembered to cleanse and moisturize my face before I went to sleep. (Insert shameless plug for my sister’s beauty line, Terme di Fontecchio Umbria, sold at the Beauty Mark on Charles Street. Hey, a girl’s gotta help her family out.)

A quick shower and a few gobs of under-eye concealer later, I was out the door and on my way to PR pro Lynne Kortenhaus’s incredible home in Charlestown for a Frette press preview. (Frette is set to open this fall in the new Mandarin Oriental.)

It was slightly more civilized than my prosecco-and-Campari-drinking, party-hopping Fashion Week evenings have been. I arrived at the same time as a normally very sweet local editor. She was not happy, and boy, did it show. Maybe she was having a bad day, who knows — but I do know that a martini straight up can turn that frown upside down. Anyway, on this day, the devil did wear Prada — or was it Valentino?

But I digress. Back to zillion-thread-count sheets. Lynne’s home had been transformed into a showroom for all things Frette. $1800 sheets, a $4000 cashmere blanket — oh God, they were all so soft, I just wanted to touch them ... maybe roll around in them ... maybe roll them up when no one was looking and throw them out the window for my accomplice to catch and run away with. (Sheets? What sheets? Lynne must have had the beds stripped before we got here.)

Even if the ultra-lux linens are out of your budget, thankfully Frette, like any smart luxury brand, also offers small accessories, candles, and room sprays while you work your way up to the $6000 mink throw. A girl can dream.

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