Saturday Morning Vintage Shopping In NY

So Rain left. I went for a swim and had a shower and then hailed a taxi - my second in one day!!! I was so excited - and then crippled the driver with my embarrassingly big suitcase. I did warn him that it was heavy but he said that he was 'pretty strong' and then picked it up and said 'Jeeesus that is heavy'. And I was like, well yeah. I was there for over two weeks!!
It was mortifying having to get someone to help me get it off the luggage carousel when I arrived though.
Anyway, I went to the hotel that me and my family, who were flying out that day, had booked and dumped my bag with the very lovely concierge (who my dad later became, like, best friends with) and got a bit excited about how luxurious it looked in comparison to the YMCA. It was quite luxurious but, looking back, probably not quite as luxurious as my poor hostel-bathroom-sharing accustomed brain thought at the time.

Then I went vintage shopping.

Ohh I felt like such a local!!
(NB: getting really emotional remembering it all. I want to be there now!! I bet it's beautiful this time of year, with all the trees in Central Park just on the cusp of autumn...)
I went to the Chelsea vintage market 'The Garage' which is taken over by all things vintage on the week end so that the cars that fill it during the week have to retreat. I spent ages wondering about and chatting to the owners. They were all lovely, especially the eccentric, jewelled cat eye glasses sporting seller of several beautiful 1920s dresses (all sadly very much out of my price range) who encouraged me try on a fantastic beaded number from the 80s even though she knew I totally couldn't afford it. I swirled about it and we discussed the difference between British and American vintage and how much I love the flapper style and my love of all things 20s and she 'simply adooored' my accent. It was all very jolly.

I got really into the idea of long silk slips worn as summer dresses which would have looked lovely and whimsical on balmy Portugal evenings. Amazingly, I managed to restrain myself. I didn't even buy this gorgeous red mohair jumper!! It was very sad but I thought that really, given the taxi drivers reaction to my bag, I couldn't possibly get any more into it, especially given my v heavy Harper's book and new romper. It was an amazing act of restraint for me, given my past vintage shopping history, and my mum couldn't quite believe it.

After a good hour of vintage immersed happiness I went for coffee at a lovely place opposite Billy's Bakery, where all the locals were eating pancakes. I sat outside and got coffee and watched the world go by.

 

My coffee came with a heart and I realised how deeply I'd fallen in love with New York.

 

 

It was weird, as I sat there contemplating my time in New York, I realised that my independent time as a near local was coming to an end. I'd promised to show my family my favourite bits of the city, but I knew that I would become a tourist. The night before me and Rain had tried to think of best and worst bits (which I always do when I go on holiday) and I think it says something that we couldn't decide what our favourite bit was (too many) and simply couldn't think of a worst bit. Going through security at JFK?? Even that was no where near as bad as I thought it would be.

 

I was sooooo looking forward to seeing may parents and my sister and telling them everything and, I know it sounds cringey, but I was really proud of myself. I smugly sipped my coffee and then headed back to the hotel, savouring my last few hours as an independent New Yorker. But don't worry; I'll return as an independent New Yorker. Have no doubt about that.