Return to New York
@josiesfacesofficials on a billboard in Times Square for NYFW
Just a week and ½ since I left New York for New York Fashion Week (see Copa Style Magazine for full coverage), I found myself back again – only this time for my “real” job (IYKYK).
I treat myself to an Uber because at 6am I just don’t feel like the hassle of dealing with the Metro (and, to be honest, I’m a little nervous about being on that platform that early in the morning all by my lonesome). We pull up to the front of Union Station, this side of which I have never seen before! I usually get off the Metro and head straight to the trains, which means that I stay underground. Now an entire new world was unfolding before my eyes! Eateries, coffee shops…and I noticed that Amtrak actually had a ticket counter (“does anyone still use those anymore?” I think to myself). I arrive to the gate just as my train is boarding, and I’m patting myself on the back that this morning has gone so smoothly. “Look, I got this! I’m a pro!” I think to myself as I strut down the platform. I get to my seat to find someone else in it. In confusion we both look at our tickets….and I see that mine is for one month from now!
Just as panic is about to set in, I decide that instead of crying I am going to put on my big girl pants and find a solution. I remembered the Amtrak ticket counter. Long story short, a few minutes later I’m boarding a different train – no longer business in business class, and it’s the local instead of the Aecela, but hey – beggers can’t be choosers!
Fortunately the rest of the trip goes more smoothly. Well, for me anyway. I meet up with a work colleague / friend at a networking event, and from there we hit the shops (Alice + Olivia, here we come!). My rationale for buying a new dress that I really don’t need is that I’m headed to DC Fashion Week straight from the train at Union Station the day I get back. My friend wants to go to Saks 5th – fine with me! Although, as we trek across 3 avenue blocks and up 5th avenue in my Bottega Venetta heels in the rain, I am starting to wish I’d brought alternate footwear (please read previous blog titled “Real New Yorkers Wear Flip Flops.”) We get to Saks and my friend discovers she is missing her phone! Not only that, but we have a dinner reservation on the other side of town and are supposed to be in Hells Kitchen within the next 10 minutes. We treat ourselves to a taxi, I text my new bff at A+O, and she lets us in to get the phone. Whew! Crisis averted.
The next day I’m having coffee with an old friend at this adorable French pastry shop on the corner of 8th and 47th, less than a block away from where I’m staying at the Marriott Marquis. I take some time to catch up on work, I do the tradeshow thing that I’m there to do, and we all head to a Broadway show, “Some Like It Hot.” What an amazing show!!! I highly recommend it if you haven’t seen it already.
Of course even before we hit intermission, I need a pee. And of course, I’m sitting in the middle of the row. I scooch by everyone with lots of apologies, and when I come back I have to wait until intermission to retake my seat. No problem, I was expecting that…besides, I am having way more fun up here! I’m swaying my hips, and dancing along like I remember my tap lessons from when I was 9 years old. I notice behind me this adorable older lady, short, stocky, gray hair, dancing as well. She is tapping, and doing high kicks, and I am *impressed*! Once intermission begins my first mission is to refill my drink, and Brittany at the bar could not be any sweeter. I approach the usher and ask, “Are you on Broadway yourself?” “I used to be,” she says with a sigh. “Well I hope you’re still dancing somewhere because you’re amazing!” And then feeling proud that I hopefully brightened someone’s day, I head back to my seat and my can of Pringles.
The next morning comes way too early! My high hopes of getting up to work out are once again dashed, as the snooze button is way too tempting. I get myself out the door and catch a cab a few minutes later than I’d like, and am worried that I might miss my train (again). The cab driver is a black American woman with a very slight accent that I can’t quite place. When she first starts talking I can’t even tell if it’s her I’m hearing or the TV that is always on in the back seat. I realize she’s talking and I try to pay attention, even though I can barely hear anything. She’s telling me about Houston, and how she used to live there, and thought she might move back, but it didn’t work out but she had a beautiful road trip anyway. I tell here I’m from D.C. and mention somewhat braggadociosly that I’m involved with the “fashion scene.” She gets very excited, and tells me that she knew there was something about me when she first saw me, because of the brightly colored striped sweater (#aliceandolivia) and the colorful hat (#maisonmichelle) I was wearing. Then we start talking about NYFW, which she didn’t realize was two weeks ago, but now she understands how she made so much money that weekend. She also recalls hearing one of her passengers dissing on [ ]’s collection, which just flabbergasts her! And so she continues chatting, very kindly, while I’m wondering if I’m going to make my train! “Oh, well” I think to myself, “maybe this prater is helping me keep my mind off of worrying.”
The end of this story is rather anticlimactic, I’m afraid. I make my train, and I make it back home in plenty of time for the networking event that kicks of DC Fashion Week. Although, now I’m feeling guilty that I bought that dress…..
