On the F train from Brooklyn, a tall man in calf-length green and purple patterned wool coat, dark grey wool pants with a thin purple stripe, checked shirt, grey tweed cap, well-shined black shoes, and iPod, managing to be natty and flamboyant at once without being obnoxious about it. Reading the Philip Johnson obit, natch.

Incidentally, the Talk of the Town and In the Magazine pages on CondéNet could be better coordinated; not all the links work, and they don't quite match in either style or description (also, the issue date is wrong on the former). [Note from the future: Needless to say, this is no longer true.]