![]() He’s covered in spindly tattoos and antique gold jewelry, and holds a deep reverence for Pete Doherty and the Artful Dodger. Hall moves through life with an exceptionally carefree attitude, and dresses downright Dickensian, wearing slept-in Savile Row suits over wool vests, wingtips with holes worn through the soles, and assorted newsboy caps. “I was like, there are still young poets out in the world?” I guess Sonny was in my feed.” He asked Hall for a photo. One man, who appeared to be on the front end of the millennial age spectrum, which made him the oldest person in the room by about a decade, summed up how many of them had found themselves there: “It was through social media. Hall had announced the impromptu book signing last-minute on Instagram, and soon a group of assorted fashion types, literary college students, and absolutely besotted teenage girls hovered around the table. The book had just been picked up by London’s Hodder & Stoughton-“Steven King’s publisher,” he noted, grinning-and he was trying to offload the last of the first editions he had self published in April, for $60 a pop. About twenty copies of his poetry book, The Blues Comes With Good News, were stacked in front of him on the white paper tablecloth. ![]() On a sunny Saturday afternoon last month, the model Sonny Hall was sitting at a big table in the back of Lucien, a scene-y French bistro in downtown Manhattan.
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