My Big Apple Part 3

Where was I?

Oh - I'm now in our new room at the Lafayette House. They had to switch us to a nicer room. Not sure what was wrong with the old one as it had the unexpected amenity of lighting that made my skin look an airbrushed calendar model's. I get over it when I cozy into a lovely sitting area across from a roaring fire and a complimentary bottle of wine. I can't stop taking pictures of myself in the smoked glass. I want to cover every surface of my house with this stuff. Jen's cousin and her husband arrive for drinks and I take a few, tentative sips of the French red they brought with them. Nothing like spewing vomit at a fancy Fashion week after party, so I go slow.

The models are trying for kids. Not at this exact moment, but they are discussing it. I cannot even imagine the uber-dimpled polite future smoking hot blonde to spring from such a pairing. Well, clearly I have.

7:30 The lobby of the Bowery Hotel. This has the same dark wood, candlelight and clubby vibe as the Chateau, but not as snotty. I have an insanely yummy Pimms Cup with Michael and Blossom, two of Jen's photographers, and a 10 on the Nice New Yorker scale. Michael tells a story about the most unique wedding he'd ever seen. The couple, also photographers, rented out a warehouse where they had setup a boxing ring. The invitations were letterpressed boxing match invitations. The bride and groom entered in early 1900s-style bathing suits and "boxed," kissing and slow dancing while the ref married them - via kazoo. he lifted up their arms in victory. Floral sashes were draped over the newly married couple and a marching band appeared and escorted them and their guests to a reception. Kickass, no?

There's an Olsen twin lounging on the couch and Paul Dano's at the bar. I could get seriously cozy with another Pimms but it's time to scoot.

9:00 The Rodarte after-party hosted by Kim Gordon. Thank God its a bunch of models here because the food is fantastic, free and there's plenty left for me. I have 2 - count em - 2 elderflower vodkas. I have no idea what that is, tastes vaguely of grapefruit, and gets the job done. Paul the architect arrives with his lovely friend Jen (NNY : 10) and I meet yet another lovely Jen of the New York Times. It's really inspiring to be around such motivated, creative thinkers. And then there is Ryan Adams, chatting with my Jen while I linger behind her like a shy little geisha. He is all crazy talk with the hands and oral fixation and squirrely. Apparently he is on the prowl after going through a breakup. He does not even look at me as "we" part company. Sniff. I'm not into flirting with crazy, cool indie rock stars anyway. Except the one I married,of course.

12:30 I am a pumpkin. Yes, it's my last night, but it's also the first night in about 5 years that I've had 2 vodkas within 30 minutes of each other.

Wednesday

9:00 AM oops. Didn't mean to sleep this late. And, oops, meant to drink more than a teacup of water before I went to bed. This is gonna hurt.

9:30 Gemma Restaurant next to the Bowery. Baked eggs with prosciutto, avocado and tomato sauce. Cornmeal pancakes with vanilla butter and bosch pear compote. Brioche smeared with nutella. And hangover tea. Yes, it is as insanely delicious as it sounds. We sit next to a wild-haired Italian model agent who rolls calls in English, French and dahling-ese. Oh you people. You're making me miss LA.

10:45 Headphones in. Man, I love this walking thing. Zero 7 narrates my stroll through the Lower east side over to Sons and Daughters. After all this shopping for mama, it's time to pick up some birthday presents for the baby doll. Lucky for all of us, they, too, are having a 50% sale. She gets the cutest top and skirt I've ever seen. And a coloring book. And a towel. And a guide to shadow puppets. I really, really need to leave or this is gonna get ugly fast.

11:30 After dropping my bags off at the Sherry-Netherland where my dad is staying, Jen and I meander through Central Park and take pictures of ourselves as Posh Spice. jen is way better at it then me.


t is 65 degrees. I am wearing short sleeves. It was 30 degrees and snowing 2 days ago. The light is diffused through clouds and the park is stripped bare of foilage. It's still breathtaking and calm. A nanny strolls by with a pink Silver Cross pram. I wonder if she's ever had to take that thing on the subway.

1:00 Jen and I say goodbye in front of the Sherry-Netherland. The rain comes, and I pop open my umbrella and stroll with the masses through midtown. I've got an hour to kill before I meet my dad, and looky-here. Henri Bendel just happens to be on my path.

2:00 Dad and I text each other as I hurry down 5th Avenue, chocolates for Caleb tucked under my arm. The rain is falling in earnest. Our ride is waiting. My dad and I kiss hello like old New Yorkers, and I tell him we really need to meet like this more often. I say goodbye to NYC.


Because I am minutes shy of tossing my computer out the window from uploading problems, here's a link to more pics.