Hot Dog and I, by Fernanda Cohen

Wednesday greetings, my collector friends. Looks like yesterday's double header was a home run, even among the upper crustiest. I was at a posh event at The Whitney last night and ran into quite a few people who were very pleased with their most recent 20x200 acquisitions. Go team!

I thought we'd follow up yesterday's hit with a curve ball from exuberant artist and illustrator Fernanda Cohen. (That's my final baseball pun for the week, promise.) We're all holding our breath at 20x200 HQ to see how our collector crowd responds to Hot Dog and I.

I think it's pretty great. Hilarious, in fact. Look how happy that dude is, eating his hot dog with his junk blowing in the breeze. He'd probably get arrested in Central Park, but I have a feeling he'd insist on finishing off his afternoon snack before he allowed himself to be cuffed.

Fernanda has a distinctive illustrative style, one that you may well recognize from the pages of The New Yorker. This particular piece is from a series she did called The Food Affair which features a variety of zaftig sensualists in the throes of rapturous repasts. Of all the pieces Fernanda submitted, this was the one that struck me as being so New York for a million reasons (public nudity not being among them.) New York + Food + Love = Edition Awesomeness in my book, so we went with it.

While I saw no naked men munching on wieners in the NYC of my youth, something about this illustration that connects me to, and makes me sentimental for late 20th Century NYC. It reminds me of weekend trips to the museum followed by strolls through the park and special treats of street food. It reminds me of The New Yorker before Tina Brown and of the city itself in a time when it wasn't a place largely inhabited by hedge fund managers and well-moneyed international tourists.

I am probably reading way too much into it, but I'm always glad to have these happy associations triggered and with Hot Dog and I, they're triggered with a giggle.

And what about his apologetic nakedness? This unselfconscious unfurling of a figure that can only be described as rubenesque? Totally great! A well-toned Adonis taking his afternoon meal with such casual aplomb would not have nearly the same effect. There's an uncanny allure to someone who is fat and happy and in love with their lunch. Don't you think?

Speaking of being in love with lunch, I need some of that my own self. Probably something less salty and starchy than what hot dog guy is having. I need to do justice to the fantastic frock that I've picked out for tomorrow's Blind Spot benefit. More on all of that tomorrow morning, when we announce our extra special edition in their honor.