FNO
There are times when I wait for a train for 20 minutes and then step in a puddle of human urine on my way home and I really question why the H I moved here.
And then there are nights that remind me why.
Last night was one of those nights.
Fashion Night Out is the kick off for Fashion Week in the city, and every store on 5th Ave, in Midtown, Soho, and Meatpacking pulls out all the stops. Stores from Bloomingdales to Macy's to independent designer-owned shops turn on the party. Models in 5 inch heels carry around trays of free drinks. DJ's spin records so music spills out onto the streets. Retail crazies dance shamelessly in store windows. There is body painting. There is free swank. It is freaking awesome.
The only less-than stellar part of FNO was my unpreparedness. I wore a three year old gray dress from target and leggings with a hole in the knee. My make-up from 6:30AM had worn off, and I had a headache. I was anything BUT fashionable. But I drank the free drinks and bobbed my head to the tunes and fingered through pieces of clothing that were evenly spaced out on the racks, pieces that I would never in a million years be able to afford. I felt fat and ugly and inadequate for a brief moment, but then I tossed back my free vino, grabbed another glass from a wobbly model, and thought to myself, "Goddamn, This is New York City."
I'll be more prepared next year...
And then there are nights that remind me why.
Last night was one of those nights.
Fashion Night Out is the kick off for Fashion Week in the city, and every store on 5th Ave, in Midtown, Soho, and Meatpacking pulls out all the stops. Stores from Bloomingdales to Macy's to independent designer-owned shops turn on the party. Models in 5 inch heels carry around trays of free drinks. DJ's spin records so music spills out onto the streets. Retail crazies dance shamelessly in store windows. There is body painting. There is free swank. It is freaking awesome.
The only less-than stellar part of FNO was my unpreparedness. I wore a three year old gray dress from target and leggings with a hole in the knee. My make-up from 6:30AM had worn off, and I had a headache. I was anything BUT fashionable. But I drank the free drinks and bobbed my head to the tunes and fingered through pieces of clothing that were evenly spaced out on the racks, pieces that I would never in a million years be able to afford. I felt fat and ugly and inadequate for a brief moment, but then I tossed back my free vino, grabbed another glass from a wobbly model, and thought to myself, "Goddamn, This is New York City."
I'll be more prepared next year...
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