On Wednesday, I made a cameo appearance in New York City to see my 1stdibs showroom at the New York Design Center (1stdibs@NYDC). Apparently, the Obamas had the same idea. Mind you, we were there for different purposes and different agendas, but who has to know, right? And if that was not cause enough for a major traffic jam in New York City, that evening was also the much anticipated and ever so popular ("popular" being the operative word here) lighting of the tree at Rockefeller Center. So between the Obamas and the tree lighting, I could not have picked a more crowded day to be in NYC.
But, hey, it was New York and I was determined to make the most out of my 9 hour visit to NYC. By the way, JetBlue offers this amazing flight where you can leave New Orleans at 6:10 a.m. (getting into NYC at around 10 a.m.) and you can fly out at 8:30 p.m. that same evening. All for the exciting low price of $195 roundtrip!!!! So basically, for the same cost as a long lunch at Galatoire's with the girls, I spent the day in New York. Talk about an ideal shopping day trip.
So after visiting my showroom, replenishing some of my inventory, and then hopping on over to the 1stdibs digs on 5th Avenue to have a girls' lunch with 1stdibs' PR dreamgirl, Stacy McLaughlin, I decided that I would spend the remaining 2 hours of my trip window gazing up and down 5th Avenue.
So in my 3 1/2" super adorable black and grey spectator mary jane pumps, I decided to walk the 40 some blocks from the 1stdibs' offices to the Plaza Hotel. At some point, at or around 5th Avenue and 40th-something or other Street, when I was at the point of crying from the excruciating pain in my feet on the shoulder of a total unknown pretzel vendor, I admitted that this had been a bad idea. Who did I think I was trying to walk some 40 blocks in high heels?????? By that point, the idea of taking off my shoes crossed my mind but I thought that if I did, I may never be able to get them back on and what could be worse than walking on stockinged feet on 5th Avenue????? I can see the headlines now.
So I wiped my tears, straightened my back and continued on, thinking that if I could just make it to the Plaza, then all would be well.
Of course, taking photos of the fantastic Holiday windows on 5th Avenue was first and foremost part of my original plan. But with the crowds and the nail driving pain on my feet, I kept thinking of one goal -- The Plaza. Scarlett may have had her Tara -- I had my Plaza.
And on I marched.
By far, this was the closest to finding out how binding one's feet must feel like. And I still don't understand how they do it! Or, most significantly, WHY???^$%$%#$@#$%$$%
Note to self: Do not ever bind feet.
Not even the windows of Henri Bendel, or Bergdorf Goodman's or even Tiffany's could draw me in. Had I seen the paramedics on 5th Avenue, I would have hailed them and have them push me on a stretcher, after having them amputate my feet.
But then I saw it, like a vision in the desert.......
There she was, standing tall and elegant (unlike me by this point, I may add).
I walked in like a homeless woman ...... with bound feet.
And when I saw the glitter and dancing lights of the gigantic Baccarat chandeliers up above, I knew I had arrived to all that was familiar to me, tired feet and all.
A glass or two of champagne later, I was in a cab to JFK for my trip back home to my sweet home New Orleans.
Hope you have a fabulous weekend wherever this post finds you and don't forget to check out my new inventory on 1stdibs.