David Sedaris—more specifically, his writing and also perhaps his fashion sense—has a way of sticking with you. At least according to his numerous memoirs and essays, Sedaris’s life seems excessively weighted toward the madcap and bizarre. Which other author wrote a short story about having a benign fatty tumor removed from his body … and then carried it to South Carolina in a cooler, where he fed it to a cancer-stricken sea turtle he named “Calypso”? We can only imagine what treasures will appear in Happy-Go-Lucky, his new essay collection, out May 31. He is also collaborating with Valentino creative director Pierpaolo Piccioli on the house’s Narratives II project. Sedaris, along with 16 other authors, has contributed an original piece of writing to appear in a global advertising campaign. Here, Sedaris shares his key components to the good life. —Ashley Baker
Airline: Cathay Pacific.
Airport: Kastrup, Copenhagen Airport. They sell great bread there. It’s like cake.
Alibi: “I was out of town.”
App: The one that gives you directions.
Bag: Lately I like a Visvim bag that looks just like a paper grocery bag but is made of Lamb Leather.
Bedtime: 2:30 a.m.
Bike: A brown Raleigh three-speed.
Birthday: Something in mid-October.
Boyfriend/girlfriend: I’m pretty happy with the boyfriend I have now, Hugh Hamrick. A good girlfriend is Dawn Erickson. We dated in 1976 and are still in touch. Both of them are extraordinarily capable.
Breakfast: Oatmeal.
Car: I have never driven, but in Sussex we have a brown Volvo station wagon that we got used. It cost 2,000 pounds and has never given us any trouble.
ChildREN: Twin five-year-old boys I met in England named Max and Felix. They were so polite and interested in everything.
Cocktail: I don’t drink, but I like the look of a Manhattan.
Cocktail appetizer: Aunt Ruby’s Country Style Peanuts.
Dinner, weekday: Spaghetti with anchovies.
Dinner, weekend: Veal chops.
Disguise: One that makes you look like a humble shepherd.
Dress: One of the old Comme des Garçons checkered ones that made it look like you had a hunchback.
Enemy: The wind. It was a serious adversary when I lived in Chicago. Oh, how I hated it sometimes.
Escape: Tokyo.
Excuse:
“I needed to be alone for a while.”
Flaw: An overbite.
Friend: Veronica Ruedrich.
Good-bye: A wave.
Hideaway: Pretty much any hotel in Brittany.
Hotel: Four Seasons Resort: The Biltmore Santa Barbara.
Insult: “What’s the difference between two dicks and a joke? You can’t take a joke.”
Jacket: A gray Comme des Garçons jacket from the spring ’20 collection. It looks like it has dual airbags that deflated.
Last Meal: Hugh’s meat manicotti.
Lunch, weekday: Salade Niçoise.
Lunch, weekend: Swordfish brochettes.
Match: My ass and your face.
Movie: Far from Heaven, directed by Todd Haynes.
Name: Fredanté. I’m pretty sure I made it up.
Neighbor: Thelma, our late neighbor in Sussex.
Nonfiction book: Among the Thugs, by Bill Buford.
Novel: Revolutionary Road, by Richard Yates.
Pants: These Yohji Yamamoto pants that look like you tucked a napkin into them.
Pet: A cat that is obese.
Piece of advice: “Put that cat to sleep.”
Restaurant: Osteria Mozza, in Los Angeles.
Saying: “C’est la beamage.”
SHOES: I like these Italian shoes by a company called Marsèll. They’re great for people with bunions.
Singer: Betty Carter. Her voice is on the thin side, but she’s such a great stylist.
Television series: Kingdom, a Korean show about zombies.
Time of day: 11 p.m.
Toast: Raisin.
Vacation: Japan.
View: The Alps.
Wake-up time: 10 a.m.
Work of art: To B.W.T., a painting by Philip Guston at the Seattle Art Museum .
WRITING IMPLEMENT: Caran d’Ache pens and pencils.
David’s Essentials
