Tucked into the chilly, silvery Financial District, Molly’s home is a whiskeyed oasis and one of the last places in Manhattan you can straight-facedly call “bohemian.” The walls are hung salon-style with her and Fred’s paintings; the bathroom, with its peacock-blue wallpaper, is a selfie haven. Molly occupies the seemingly disparate roles of carnivalesque painter, politically active writer, and foreign correspondent. When we meet, she’s preparing for a story she can’t talk about.

-“Molly Crabapple’s Too Many Things” Adult Mag