With the wedding plans completely up in the air and my stay-at-home role making me a bit edgy, today we headed for NYC to check out dresses with my 'Hollywood' sister-in-law to be, Katheryn. She'd be in the Big Apple anyway, and her buddy, Brazilian designer Ana Maria, was also in town ... Katheryn was stoked, and when this girl gets excited it seems anything is possible.
SO I jumped on the chance to have this model/ actress/ one-woman army take me under her wing for a little couture comfort.
Just walking through the bustling Christmassy streets with this new family had me looking up. Up to a sky that was clearing up, across to the Sally Ann bell-ringers who actually sing bee-you-tiffully, and through the sea of shoppers to catch kids' smiles. Before we even arrived for my private fitting I had a new skip in my step.
It wasn't my first trip to New York -- that special visit came earlier this year, when Al and I escaped the parents for a couple days of bumming around Central Park, Times Square, and various pizza joints. Before that, NYC was pure legend, coloured mostly by that classic Pogues tune. (Classic -- and sad, as it always reminded me of one failed relationship and the Christmas that followed).
That skip turned into a bit of a teeter when I arrived at Ana's apartment. The place was so clean, so full of designer clothes ... and I always feel grubby in those kind of situations. But I scrubbed hard that morning, and even shaved the day before in anticipation of the many eyes that would be sizing me up, so I kept my cool as I tried on backless, floor length gowns, fun frocks, and 4" heels that definitely made me feel like a little girl playing dress up (she has size 11 feet!)
But before long I had the dress.
Now, I did have some reservations about picking the first one that came to me. I suggested we should check out some bridal salons while in the city, so that I could know for sure that I didn't want some thousand dollar costume I'd never wear again. But the more people I talked to the less attractive this experience appeared. Apparently those bridal folks can be pretty mean, trying to restrict the number of dresses you try on, and they don't even keep numerous sizes in stock! They PIN -- and at 5'1", they'd be doing a lot of pinning.
Did I need a witch to complete this fairytale? I don't think so.
So we measured some alterations in the comfort of Ana's awesome pad -- the dress will be made in Brazil, bringing a fun cultural element to the dress -- and we were soon making plans for pizza en route to Grand Central, where we'd catch the 3:39 pm train back to Brewster, NY.
But there wasn't enough time. As the sun breathed its golden magic through the towers of Manhattan, we scurried from 64th and 1st to 42nd and Park. I took Mark Kingwell's advice and refused to run ("running is always a sign of failure. ... Running means you have mistimed something ..."). And just when the mom-in-law to-be started to question my steady stride, scampering ahead and needlessly asking for directions, the Mercury caught my eye and brought my gaze up once again to that sunseting sky above.
Perhaps I'll start saying, when explaining my post-wedding plans, that I'm moving to New York City ... hey, it's my fairytale.
FOR THE RECORD
As for ex-boyfriends and their affect on my pleasure of the here and now, I still love that song. And the necklace I took off in Ana's apt? I remembered it half a block after leaving and went back, even though it was a gift from Boyfriend Past.