Custo Barcelona

Look at this little sweetheart. Not only does she slip me backstage to the Custo Barcelona show, but she takes my coat and stashes it in a safe place. What a absolute darling.
Okay so lets rewind to June 2007. I touch down in Barcelona, my first time in Europe in 16 years. WOAH I'm so excited! And because my plans fell through with meeting up in Sitges, I didn't exactly have a hostel booked. My bus from the airport dropped me off at the top of Las Ramblas, and with my pack on my back and a photocopied page from an old travel guide book I set out for mystery hostel number one. Walking down the colorful and noisy Las Ramblas (if you've been to BCN you know its kinda Times Square-y without most of the awfulness plus live bunnies for sale) the store front for Custo Barcelona still managed to catch my eye as I walked by. Something about the colors screamed NORA!!!!!!! I walked by a couple more increasingly exhausted times in my quest for a hostel that would take me (and if you're curious I finally found one that let me sleep on the floor for only 12 euros) and made note to stop by when I wasn't looking like a sweaty crazy with a two ton pack on.
I ended up going inside Custo something like five times. Always engaged with the colors and textures. So totally Spain, completely Barcelona. I was in love. I looked into working for them but alas "Donde esta el bano?" is not good enough Spanish to work for a Spanish company...
So of course I jumped on the chance to check out the line this season.
Look, I'm loving it!
Isn't that sweater just, oh there aren't even words. COLOR and TEXTURE kinda threw up on it, but not in a bad way. In the best way.
And lets just have a conversation about the shoes. Chloe watched me take photos of them and just looked at me and said, "Those shoes are so you." And rolled her eyes-in the most endearing of ways of course. Ugh- I want to own them. All of them. I will wear them, every day, unless its raining.
The show was everything you want in a fashion show. The runway was lit with spot lights and the venue was otherwise very dark. The clothes were fun, funky, spunky and le coole. The models sped down to the bumping music- I wasn't the only one dancing in my seat. This wasn't an uber conceptual display of craft and thoughtfulness, this was FASHION! Oooooh, amazing.
Texture! Fur! Patterns! Layering! Shiny! Sparkly! Super Sass!
After the show there was the maddest of mad dashes to get everything back together and out of there. Chaos. Fashion. They go hand in hand.

The High Line

Johanne, my love from Belgium, a good friend- friend for life (and a Francophone, what is it with me and French speakers? seriously! I just can't get enough!) came to NY for a visit with her great friend Marie Pierre, nick named Mype.
Johanne lived here for year, but it was Mype's first time- so they spent alot of time doing touristy stuff. I feel like that is all well and good, but I know why I love NY, and its not because I can visit the Statue of Liberty or go to the top of the Empire State Building. There is a spirit of the city- a charming street, a good slice of pizza, fashion-fashion-fashion, hustle bustle, community within a whole hell of a lot of assholes, beautiful creatures of the night, bike messengers... oh the ever shifting list of wonderful things that come together to make a heart beat, a breath, a rhythm, and gives it a saucy character.

When I travel I try to keep this idea in mind and try to fall in love with other cities. When I have guests I try to bring them to the New Yorkiest places I know- and leave them to their own devices when it comes to making the trek to Times Square. They can visit that on their own time.
I understand the pull, I suppose, but its too plastic and not really New York, even though it absolutely is, ya get?
So I decdied that on a Sunday I would take over. I knew we needed to walk a shit ton after eating my hands down favorite pizzaria (John's on Bleeker for all ya'll). We meandered through the West Village, stopping at interesting shops, a neato gallery, and of course a Marc Jacobs or two,- all en route to the High Line. It is a brand new, and super neat park.
If you live here, you know it is one of the only above ground parks in the US, built on the old rail road tracks used for carrying freight (and meat- yes, once the meatpacking district was true to its namesake).
You can still see the old tracks, and a view of New Jersey (is that a pro or a con?). It was a nice way to spend an afternoon, lounging on the over sized chairs, enjoying a paused moment, taking in the completely interesting park. I recommend it to anyone. Its unlike any park I've ever been to, and while there is no grass to laze around in (which is absolute favorite thing to d0) there is plenty of greenery, people watching and good architecture. Check it.
After our fantastic day at the high line Mype gave me such a complement- New York would not be New York without you. And suggested I start giving tours of the city. I think I would like to do that very muc- and it would be so so so much fun. I love foreginers, I mean after all, I'm a New Yorker!

Bubble Battle 2009- Times Square Style

BUBBLE BATTLE!

Last Friday I met up with some lovely ladies in one of my most hated places, Times Square, to blow bubbles at each other. That's right- it was time for this years annual Bubble Battle, hosted by those darling kids at Newmindspace. I mean, if the event was able to turn HORRID Times Square into a wonderland... well this is an example of why I started this blog to begin with. I LOVE NEW YORK!
This was just a fantastical moment, the weather was perfect, the attitude was good, clean (get it!?) fun.
Smokin' the bubble.






At some point these assholes came over asking for permits. Basically anyone they asked was kinda like -
"...a permit... to blow bubbles?"

They were for the most part largely ignored.
Let that be a lesson to you non-New Yorkers, this is a big bad city full of trouble and evil doing, like damn bubble blowers.