From the Editor

Susan Weidman Schneider explores why Jewish women seem preoccupied with clothes.

In the touristy areas of the French Quarter, which was relatively unscathed by Katrina, New Orleans streets are full of buskers. By the dozens, these street performers enact all kinds of feats: lumber balancing, group singing, break dancing, rapping; at least this was the assortment I took in when I was there a couple of months ago. One act was particularly stunning. Two men in eye-catching metallic costumes, their bodies sprayed silver to match, stood on a makeshift platform miming to music and moving in perfect synchronicity, human simulacra of robots. I watched them, mesmerized, for a couple of minutes. I had nothing in my wallet smaller than a $20 bill, so I reached into my pocket for a handful of change to put into their silvered bucket. One of the robo-guys shook his head at me, and without breaking the rhythm of the act said clearly: “No change. Only bills.”

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