Ariel Foxman

Editor-in-Chief, InStyle Magazine. New York

If there's one thing we've learned from snooping through the homes of the names topping many a masthead, it's that an editor's day job often extends to their personal style and sense of aesthetics. For many editors, their 9-5 is reflected in their home and Ariel Foxman is no exception. As the Editor-in-Chief of InStyle Magazine, Foxman's highly-edited wardrobe is full of what feel like monumental fashion moments.

After spending the night hanging with BFF Mickey Boardman (stay tuned!) watching Lance Armstrong's confession on Oprah (quell scandale!), Foxman greeted us at his Manhattan home and we got the royal tour of his pad.

Foxman filled us in on his art collection, with works by Matthew Barney (Björk's husband) and Lori Nix, to name a few, including the Julian Opie piece he's dying to get his hands on. We then got a full walk-through of his closet and he took time to share the stories behind some of the most sentimental pieces in his wardrobe. We heard all about his first designer splurge (a pair of Prada loafers that he'll keep forever, but rarely wears), a custom Reed Krakoff men’s bag ("It's rare to see a man carry a great bag," Foxman said), and pieces by the Helmut Lang, prior to the designer's departure from his eponymous label. And like a true editor, Foxman lives by The Coveteur code: The edited life. It’s all about “purge, purge, purge.” And as for Foxman's sartorial fixation du jour? Besides shopping almost exclusively online, he copped to a full-on infatuation for all things forest green, which he's fittingly dubbed his "green moment.”

We instantly developed a full-blown crush on the devastatingly dapper editor. Before bouncing, we swapped stories of our Jewish sleepover camps and Hebrew day school.

“When I went to college, I broke out of my Yeshiva dress code of preppy collared shirts and chinos and did the 90s grunge thing. Lots of flannel shirts and tons more Doc Martens,” Foxman confessed. But what really makes him “a happy camper?” Wearing “a chunky turtleneck and boots 365 days a year.” To which we say ah-men!