Ahh, another wonderful trip to the shitty, gritty (as I've affectionately dubbed New York City). The latest? I've got a new favorite part of the city (Chelsea... the Marketplace, the High Line, reclaimed industrial spaces), a few new favorite shirts from Madewell, and handful of new favorite people in my life to make it all worthwhile (you know who you are). Thank you to everyone who played a part in all the job networking that took place. As I burned the candle at both ends and made mad dashes from Brooklyn to Chelsea to the Upper West Side and back through Midtown on interviews, I've come to understand the real necessity of a having a messenger bag with a casual change of clothes in tow.
Then again, here's to being able to buy just about anything you need on the street in Chinatown. The day after Halloween, I even considered buying a pair of cheap pants until I realized that the only things for sale were skintight, pleather Gucci knockoffs. Instead, I bought a scarf and tried to forget about my chilly flapper-tights-as-pants attire. I mean, honestly, I would rather die than have to wear my Halloween costume the day after Halloween (and wash a decade's worth of snarky walk-of-shame comments down the drain with my hipocracy??? Never!). Luckily, my friend and I were able to fashion a white v-neck/his longest cardigan "dress" to go with my black tights and menswear flats from the night before. Phew!
I'll post a couple photos for your imagination to work with, but, backing up, the whole Halloween experience was pretty dramatic this year. I was a 1920's flapper with a white-blonde wig. We also had a She-Ra, the Rocketeer, Lady Gaga, Richie Tenenbaum, one blue robot, and six guys in white jumpsuits with painted Twister circles and a spinner. We all ripped through a bottle of Jack, filled up our whiskey flasks, and climbed out on She-Ra's rooftop to watch the crowds lining up for the 6th Avenue Halloween parade. Luckily, She-Ra's rooftop comes complete with a 40-foot, Stella billboard and two enormous spotlights overlooking Broome Street. In no time, we were posing for all of Manhattan to see and taking hillarious photos.
The really sad part is that soon after that we left for the start of the parade, which more resembles herding cattle into a corral, then it started to rain and Lady Gaga dropped the camera amidst all the slosh and puddles and pushing. Sad day, folks. Ten minutes later, the rain was unrelenting and my feather headband was drooping miserably. The Rocketeer took one look at our sad state and jet-packed us on out of there.
More like, we jumped the police barricade, searched one last time for the sopping camera, and ran for the subway. Needless to say, after few romantic, rainy make-outs, a towel-dried wig, and warm dryer for my dress, we were ready to greet the guests at Blue Robot's apartment. You can imagine how the rest of the night ensued, like any other party with plenty of booze and people you don't know. (Well, people I didn't know.) The only difference on Halloween is adding dry ice to the punch and readjusting your wig every ten minutes.
These are a few of my (NEW) favorite things:
Yeah Shang Hai, Soup dumplings
Chinatown Ice Cream Factory, Black sesame seed flavor
Madewell, On Broadway
Club Monoco, Black leather gloves
Chelsea Market
The High Line, Originally constructed in the 1930s, to lift dangerous freight trains off Manhattan's streets. Last summer Section 1 of the High Line opened as a public park, owned by the City of New York.
xoxo Besos!
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