I am in New York right now, visiting some of my most lovely and dearest friends. Though I didn't quite hack it as an actual New Yorker six years ago (though I do have to say that a visit to my old employer, Magnolia Bakery, was certainly surreal), I love coming to the city for many reasons, one of which is checking out people's fashion.
As Laurie assured me that it was not worth packing anything along the lines of pants or long sleeves, given the recent heat wave, and as I cleverly utilized my
little birthday suitcase for this trip, I did not bring extraneous clothing. Upon coming to the city, however, I have found myself wishing there were some items in my closet here with me now. If only there was a way to magically transport all of my closet with me whenever I travel. Here's to hoping technology makes some rather large advances in this realm.
Among the pieces I have wished I brought with me:
My Levi's denim vest that my friend Carly convinced me to purchase thrifting several years ago.
My Osborn booties.
My witchy lace-up black booties.
And...after a viewing of the film known on Netflix simply as "Girly"* (1970), my recently purchased Gap brown suede snap-up mini skirt. This movie also made me wish that I lived in the 70's, that I looked good in eyeliner and that my hair would grow longer than mid-boob length.
I also did a wee bit of "shopping" this afternoon with my friends Aaron and Eduardo, though I am not really sure you can refer to it as shopping considering the fact that I bought nothing and only succeeded in peeing at Crate and Barrel. Among my observations of barreling down Broadway with five million other people:
1. At first, I was really impressed by Uniqlo's button-ups with "tiny collars." Until today, I had never set foot in the store, and while I was severely underwhelmed, I did announce to Aaron that I "liked their tiny collars."
Then, we went into Topshop, Club Monaco and Zara. Here, and in every proceeding store window, I realized that "tiny collars" are now the new thing that all these shops have ripped off, I am assuming from some big name designer (who I am too lazy to google right now). So disappointing.
2. Topshop is much more expensive here than it seemed in London eight years ago. Maybe it was because at that time, I had no problem blowing my entire life savings on pseudo euro-trash fashion that would end up in the garbage or donation bin years later. Still, I was rather shocked that, unlike H&M, Topshop did not adjust their prices to American currencies after jumping over to the colonies. Perhaps this was a way to maintain their mystique as "Topshop,**" but regardless, no matter how much I was drooling over that yellow poly button-up short sleeved blouse with scalloped edging, or that floor length kelly green pleated skirt, I will not, and cannot, justify spending $70 plus for each piece.
3. Lines on Broadway are, like, crazy busy. So much so that they prevented me from making a, in hindsight, rather unwise purchase of size 10 (and yet pinchy, figure that one out) dirty tan leather elf shoes from Zara.
4. Fucking Urban Outfitters.
5. They sell Tom's at Whole Foods. Considering how much my dogs are barking after making rather poor shoe packing decisions, I am going to head there tomorrow in an attempt to rest them on some pillowy-like, socially-conscious shoes, despite my previous railings against them after my first pair wore out after three months.
6. Nothing beats buying clothes resale or thrifted. Tomorrow Laurie, my blogging partner from
Operation Sparkle, and I will be hitting up some of her choice shops so that I can feel what she feels when she attempts the sport of thrifting in NYC. Wish us luck.
*Otherwise known in the real world as "Mumsy, Nanny, Sonny and Girly"
**Considering how dirty I feel every time I now step into an H&M, this strategy must have worked.
