Loose Threads: I'm starting every day with "Star Jumps" from here on out.
By Rachelle Hruska MacPherson. June 9th, 2025
amuse-bouche:
I’m writing this after finally seeing Dorian Gray on Broadway last Friday, and watching Sarah Snook win the Tony for Best Actress last night, which she totally deserved. What a tour de force! She blew us away. This morning, Instagram served me an adorable interview where she shared that her pre-show warm-up includes “star jumps” (what we call jumping jacks). I LOVE that they call them that, and I’m officially never calling them anything else ever again. Star jumps, forever!
In today’s Loose Threads—set up French menu–style because it just fits—I’ll touch on my husband’s latest restaurant (yes, another one), what I’ve been busy creating at LF, and just a little bit of personal politics.
le menu du jour:
Today’s question: (saw this one on IG): “If your life were a movie, what would the audience be screaming at the screen telling you to do right now?”
My answer would most likely be “Go to bed!”
What about you? Drop your answer (or really anything you’d like) in the comments section below. I love love love that we have a comment section here!
hors d’oeuvre:
Before diving back into the restaurant world, I want to pause for a moment to reflect on what I’ve been doing creatively and what in the world is happening in our country right now.
This weekend, we escaped Montauk for a very good reason: Griffin Dunne’s 70th birthday in Rhinebeck. Honestly, I was shocked, he reads more like 60 (That hair! Those moves!). The man exudes vibrant goodness and has lived the most incredible life. And if this weekend was any indication, he’s still gloriously adding chapters. He’s going to need a second memoir soon. Griffin feels so young, in part, because he’s still fully engaged —with people, with ideas, with the world. That childlike curiosity, enthusiasm, and sincerity will never feel old. I’m so inspired by the guy!
We woke up Sunday morning in an old friend’s majestic estate, (upstate, I get it now), and my feeds were suddenly bursting with the Trump-induced chaos unfolding in LA. I won’t go deep into it —we saw this coming— but once again, I found myself in awe of the people out west who are not giving into this regime. They’re protesting peacefully, with conviction and grace, for the values I believe make this country worth fighting for: taking care of our neighbors, standing up for justice, showing up for each other. We love you LA.
At the same time, it feels like we’re living in a moment of extraordinary creative output, at least in my little NYC bubble. May and June are always buzzy, but this year has felt almost impossibly over scheduled in the best way. Theatre, film, art, food, fashion, everywhere I turn, something new and wildly inspired is happening.
Maybe that’s why I’m leaning so deeply into what I can control: who I spend time with, what I put my energy into. During Trump’s first term, it felt like we were all in it together, channeling our outrage into collective action. I personally dove into causes, fundraisers, advocacy. But this time? It feels… different. He’s definitely worse, and yet… we are all just seemingly carrying on. I was on a design call during Elon-gate on Thursday. We all barely batted an eye. I justify this by telling myself that focusing on my inner creative being is a worthy counteraction to Trump and his destruction—truly, what else can one do?
“Joy is an act of resistance” etc. I hate how much creative energy he’s already sucked from us—how many times we’ve had to rearrange our lives and businesses because of his chaos (tariffs! supply chains! unnecessary math!). And I wonder: is it okay to put on blinders and keep going? Possibly. Probably not.
Bette Midler (my new IRL pal, ha) recently posted a quote from George Packer’s Atlantic piece “No One Can Offer Any Hope” (uplifting title, I know):
“Even if most Americans haven’t abandoned their private sense of empathy, many don’t seem terribly bothered by the rancidness of their leaders. I confess that this indifference astonishes me. It might be the ugliest effect of Trump’s return—the rapid normalization of spectacular corruption, the desensitization to lawless power, the acceptance of moral collapse. Eventually it will coarsen us all.”
And yet.
What are we supposed to do?
It seems like many people in my world are doing what I am: carrying on. Making the best work they can, putting beauty out into the world, and doing it now—while we still can. There’s a kind of creative urgency in the air. Maybe we’re all maxing out before the inevitable next wave of AI, or collapse, or who knows what. We don’t know. So, we create.
Personally, I’ve been pouring my energy into our new Resort collection. You can read more about it, and pre-order at a discount, which really helps us during these unstable times. I say this often, but I still have to pinch myself that this is my day job. Creating something out of nothing is not for the faint of heart, but I truly believe every human should try it, often. A sketch, a dance, a dinner, a poem, a sweater. Just make something. It’s one of the only things that can’t be taken away.
And speaking of making something from nothing…
plat principal:
Let’s talk about Chez Nous.
I can finally share a little secret that’s been quietly brewing since before the pandemic—especially now that Jacob Bernstein has made it official with a write-up in the Sunday Styles section.
The story actually starts back in 2010, when I was dating Sean and he took me to a party at the most sophisticated apartment I’d ever seen. David Kuhn and Kevin Thompson hosted me that night—and so many nights after—for cocktails, home-cooked dinners, book launches, and rooftop sunsets. David, the city’s most sought-after literary agent, and Kevin, a visionary film designer, bring together the most fascinating, wildly eclectic crowd.
One night you’d be chatting with Parker Posey about “slow TV” while Amy Sedaris holds court on the patio with John Derian and New York Mag’s David Haskell. Anderson Cooper or Mark Ronson might wander in. Pamela Hanson may snap your photo in black and white. I’m dropping names here to paint the picture and illustrate the range of both age and industry these two bring…it’s like a Griffin Dunne novel come to life (and in fact it’s also actually where I met Griffin the first time, David’s his literary agent, petite monde….).
These were not just who’s who parties, they were creative salons.
The four of us became even closer after two weeks traveling through India (the ultimate friendship test). One of our favorite neighborhood hangs was Café Loup. When it closed, we all lamented the lack of warm, unfussy places to gather. Someone joked, “We should just open our own spot.” And… here we are. The three guys? They did all of the heavy lifting. I show up with some napkins and a smile, ready to meet whatever characters come my way.
Now, let me pause and say this: creating something from nothing is already hard. Creating a restaurant? Nearly impossible. Doing it with friends? A recipe for disaster —that is unless you’re all doing it for the same reason: to build a place where your people can gather and feel good. That’s the spirit of Chez Nous. It’s not any of their day jobs. No one’s trying to make it the hottest reservation in town. It’s simply a place we wanted to make for our people, with love.
Us four. In India.
Yes, the 30-foot mural on the back wall by my favorite living artist doesn’t hurt (it’s officially now already a part of NYC history), but I believe the real magic will come from David and Kevin continuing to fill it with their beautiful mix of humans doing fascinating things. Plus every single detail of the space is chic af. Would you expect anything less from these three?
“It’s perfect. It’s like a petite bijou in Paris.” - Jeff Klein (San Vicente owner).
On un-produced night one, the room wasn’t full yet, there had been no promotion, no NYT piece (it hit our phones while we were at the table!), but it felt alive and festive with bold name faces and neighbors scattered throughout. It already felt like home, or, even better, like David and Kevin’s home you’re the grateful guest of. Chez Nous!
So now we wait and see. But truthfully it’s already everything we dreamed of.
P.S. Order the tuna tartare, the leeks, and the burger. I’m calling it: best burger in the city.
à la carte:
OMG can we talk about Gen Z doctors and how adorable they are? Have you had one in your life yet? My new amazing OBGYN is Gen Z - all of her nurses are also Gen Z. You guys. I actually LOOK FORWARD to going and seeing them. I can not explain this to you until you have it happen to you yourself.
On the hunt for new sunnies? My pal Alessandra Codinha partnered with the brand Selima on this perfect pair. “An answer to the question: "What if JFK and Grace Kelly had a baby...in sunglass form?”
Pee Wee Herman was a favorite of mine growing up. I can’t begin to tell you how moved I was watching the documentary on HBO on the man as an adult.
We did make it to Montauk last weekend, and thankfully the Crows Nest has picked up right where it left us last year. Can you believe they’re in season 16? It’s wild. That place was the site of one of Sean and my first dates. I honestly can’t believe how fast time flies. You have to read this fun quick piece by Elise Taylor in Vogue “Which Hamptons are you?” The super talent Samantha Hahn did the water color prints and I LOL’d at the Montauk section:
Addison Rae released her new album and name checks the Bowery Hotel multiple times on the first single “New York.” Gaah I can’t wait for our fall collection with the hotel to drop!
RIP Jane Larkworthy. She truly was in a league of her own. Brilliant, funny, and kind.
From our interview with her: How do you hope to inspire the next generation of women? By encouraging authenticity, and exploring and embracing it. Not only do others appreciate it, it just feels cathartic and refreshing.
That’s it for now. Just a reminder that there are still kind, talented, interesting people out there doing cool things. Go find them—and dig it the most.
xo, Rachelle
i always leave these entries feeling like i’ve just shared a bottle of wine with a friend who reminds me that creativity and connection matter—especially when the world feels unsteady. this one in particular hit so many notes: the urgency of creating, the quiet power of joy, and the magic of building spaces (physical and emotional) where people feel like they belong. thank you for continuing to write, gather, and dream out loud. it’s contagious in the best way.
I sure hope you're going to write lots of books about your incredible existence, just publish the parts of your diary/journal/calendar you're willing to share and you could fill volumes over which readers like me can drool with envy.