Baseball Lessons and Juxtaposition in NYC

Having been told that the next day would be my last and thus having realised my ambition of surviving my internship with no major mishaps (yet. There's always still time I guess) it seemed like a good time to fulfill my other ambition; that of learning the rules of baseball. Or softball. Is there a difference?? I'm not sure.

Anyway, there's a pitch really close to where we're staying so I trotted off to be American and sit on the bleachers and say stuff like 'Way to go!' Basically, it's rounders, isn't it? Rounders with some added rules for complication and more equipment and some magical cue where they all know that it's time to swap who's batting and who's fielding.

So maybe I'm not entirely sure of all the rules yet, but I'm definitely getting there. Sitting on the wooden bleachers in the warm evening eating cherries and watching the baseball game in all its Americaness was perfect. And it made me want to join a sports team! It was all so jolly and friendly that me and Rain have decided that at uni we're going to become members of every club going. I haven't played netball in years but there's no reason why I shouldn't start again.

We especially loved the white tops with red sleeves in true baseball style.

Once the game had ended (I do know who won but only because of their jubilation - I got the impression that they were the underdogs and not very used to winning) we came up with the really bright idea that we simply had to see the Statue of Liberty at night. Obviously, we're poor students and so never want to spend any more money than we need to, which basically translates as spending no money on anything but clothes and sustenance, and so decided that we could totally not get the ferry and just, like, see it from the shore. And so we headed out to the river.

Once we got there we realised that our bright idea was maybe not so bright and that if you squint really hard you can just about make out the Statue of Liberty in the darkness. So that was a teeny bit of a fail.

But the river at night was beautiful. All the lights blinked back at their reflection in the river and Brooklyn Bridge was lit up like Christmas and the half moon hung over the water. It was like magic, especially as we stumbled upon the wistful clearing of the waterfront out of the urban jungle of the financial district totally by accident and without warning. As we drifted down the river we were drawn to the lights and cool bustle of Pier 17, which once again showed the way that New York is a city of contradictions and juxtaposition. Everything that conflicts is next to each other, and somehow match perfectly.

Pier 17 had loads of bars and restaurants, and some cool little stalls, and a couple of uber cool people dancing, which seems obligitory everywhere you go in New York. We keep making plans for when we all (the six of us girls) come back here when we're all 21. Until then, we've vowed to treat London differently; more like we're on holiday, more like it's the first time we're seeing it and less like everywhere takes ages to get to and probably wont be worth it when we get there.

Wise Words and Inspiration from Valentino

I went print crazy today and wore my low back Aztec print vest with my silk and fringed purple baroque swirl kimono and white city shorts. I love a good bit of print and colour clashing.

I have also been inspired by Harper's to get more red in my wardrobe. And like, actually wear it too. Valentino said that 'red is the colour that never fades into the background' and I think that it's time I stop fading into the background and started standing out a bit more. No one's ever going to fall in love with me if they can't even see me.

This inspiration came about because a recent Harper's image was needed for a banner on the website, so it needed to work horizontally. It was my task to set about finding this image, which was lovely because I got to trawl through the well section - the bit with all the beautiful pictures and fashion shoots - of all the magazines. I found a couple which I thought might work and Lisa and I then went through them and picked out our favourites. It took me nearly all day which, seeing as how I'm the girl who takes several old copies of Vogue and Harper's and Elle babysitting with me so that I can spend hours tearing out photos and images and ads to stick on my wall, it was pretty much a perfect day.

The final choice that they chose from the two pictures we sent them was of a girl standing in the desert in a scarlet chiffon gown that was caught spectacularly in the wind. I guess Valentino knows his stuff...

Failing the red tactic, I might just go about shouting. Here, as soon as I open my mouth I get more attractive. A man serving me coffee today told me I have a 'beautiful accent'.

Then, finally, when all else has proved useless, I'll dare to stare. Several people I know swear by it.

Spiritual Home

I'd arranged to meet Rain after work on Tuesday in Little Italy, because it's really close to where she works at Storefront Gallery in Nolita/Soho area. I am SUCH a subway pro, and only had to quickly double check that the train I was getting on went to Grand Street. The guy I asked wasn't sure but the train doors don't stay open for long so I leaped on regardless, because I was pretty sure I was right and I didn't want him to miss his train because of me. And then, bless him, he went off and had a look and I was completely unaware and he was like, yeah it does, and I was just like awww New Yorkers are so nice!

Anyway, I successfully reached Grand Street and successfully reached Mulberry Street which is the hub of Little Italy and successfully met Rain there. The only flaw in our very successful execution of our very successfully thought out plan was that Rain had, right at the last minute, been asked to return to work at seven, meaning we only had an hour to eat.

But it was fine! We found a lovely little Italian restaurant (not hard, I have to say) and explained that we needed to be quick and they were very helpful. We sat outside on cute rickety wooden furniture and the food was delicious, and very authentically Italian, and the people were lovely. Rain had to dash off but I spent a bit of time wandering about Little Italy. Several old men sat outside an Italian restaurant and yelled amicably at each other in Italian. A beautiful old car, which was properly 'car shaped', like the type that kids draw, and bronze, also sat outside with it's windows down and nobody in it, blaring out old jazz and Latino tunes which really made me feel like I was on the set of Arthur Millers 'A View of The Bridge'. I was once again struck by the crazyness and randomness of the city, and the way that, on every street, there's something different going on; as I returned to Grand Street Subway station and walked through Chinatown I had to weave through pairs of people crouching on the pavement having their palms read and heed a warning of 'HEADS' to avoid a wayward basketball from an impromptu match that had broken out on the corner.

It was still quite early when I got back to 59th Street so I took the scenic route home through the park. I love that the bike hire is open 24 hours a day and that the skateboarders were still showing off by the fountain. The city that never sleeps also never disappoints.

It's Tough But Someone's Gotta Do It

On Tuesday Lisa sent me on errand. I had to take some weird like bit of paper (it might have been about people getting paid. I do not know) to a building on West 37th Street at Fifth Avenue. Hearst Tower is on West 57th at Eighth Avenue. It was an hour round trip, although I was walking quite slowly because it was quite hot and there was lots of interesting stuff to look at, like the Yayoi Kusama spotted Louis Vuitton store. In fact, I walked all the way down Fifth Avenue (which, now that I think about it, may have been a bit of a long way round and so may have also added to the journey time) and ahhh it was amazing. All the designer shops, all the beautiful window displays, all the people being whisked out of said stores and into waiting cars who just exuded money. Lots and lots of money. Economic crisis what now?

My favourite window had just one beautiful dress in it. It was flapper style, with white feathers forming the skirt, and from the drop waist up it was made of hundreds of tiny pearls. It was gorgeous and for a moment I had to stop and stare and then remind myself that it's rude to leave one's mouth open like that. It was exactly what I had imagined my prom dress to look like and almost found (and thank God I didn't found it! I love the dress I wore to our leavers ball, but I wouldn't have been able to wear it knowing that my fantasy dress existed in actuality and was horribly, horribly out of my price range).

It was such a great excursion; sipping smoothie in the sunshine as I wandered around New York is a really poor excuse for work. 

That afternoon I did more archive stuff and admin-y bits and pieces. I love sitting with the art department folk; all the pictures are stunning and the girls look gorgeous and those shoes are simply diviiine. I've also seen the editing first hand. I know we've all been told it but it's true; those long legs we're all so jel of? Yeah, they're fake. 

Perfection really doesn't exist. So that was a nice confidence boost.

There was also a raffle which, sadly, I wasn't involved in, but basically it consisted of the staff getting designer bags. Lots and lots of designer bags. Amber, who sits behind me, won the most expensive item; a huge cream leather Louis Vuitton affair which caused a little frisson of envy to pass through the office. She promptly emptied everything out of her old bag and didn't put it down for the rest of the day. 

Side note: I wore my new Mango silk coral dress with cut out back. Tres Chic. 

Last Times

omg I'm so sad. To think that this is the last time that I'll walk down Eighth Avenue to work and stop off for my fruit salad and coffee; that this is the last time I'll use my visitor card to get into Hearst Tower; the last time I'll tell the doorman to have a nice day; the last time that I'll be corrected for calling 'beets' 'beetroot' whilst ordering my salad at Balduccios; the last time that I'll suddenly catch sight of the view out of the glass walls and be totally awed.

It's so strange; I'm so comfortable here now. In the morning I greet Lisa and settle down at my desk and check my emails, and I know where everything is and how everything works and more or less who everyone is. Compared to the nervous and unsure new girl who arrived last Monday I feel so different!    

I left slightly earlier than normal so that I could buy flowers from the stall near work and Rain and I spent ages last night dithering over what to write in our thank you cards. Lisa was so sweet when I gave it all to her; all 'Ohh don't be silly you didn't have to!' and gave me a hug. I really like her, she's laid back and cool but also really on everything so she should be intimidating, but she's not, she's really sweet and has made this whole experience so worthwhile and fun for me when it could easily have been awful. 

Today her friend came in to show her some clothes from her resort collection from a design called Isola Isabella and she let me sit in. It was so exciting and they were all lovely! 

She lives on a boat because her and her husband sail those massive yachts that rich people hire out, so she's sailed the world. I'm pretty sure I'm not describing this properly, but her life sounded so exciting! I now want to go  on a boat to track wales for six weeks straight after university and then basically never get off. What a way to see the world! We had quite a long chat about my trip round Europe, with Rome apparently being her favourite city after New York. 

So her designs stemmed from watching women on these yachts and what they pack and what they actually wear, and how 'vacation' clothes need to work better. Apparently, the idea was not just 'beach to bar or day to night, but day to night and then home too'. So all the clothes were beautiful blues and corals and pinks, inspired by the cobbled streets and roof tiles of Italy, all in gorgeously soft silk fabrics. I'm not a fashion writer so I don't know how to properly describe the beautiful draping of the skirts or the perfect pleats of the silk drawstring waist shorts or the high necked low scoop back blouse which perfectly fulfilled my backless garment fantasies, but trust me, they were lovely. Lisa put on a blue maxi with a waterfall skirt over her clothes and then just kept it on for the rest of the meeting, which I loved. And I wanted to steal the silk shorts, they were so impractical and lovely that I just adored them. Thankfully, I didn't need to steal anything. They gave me a lilac silk 'romper' (which I thiiiink means playsuit) that Lisa said I had to take because I would look super cute in it and it would brighten up rainy London. And after that reasoning, how could I refuse. I'm so excited to try it on! 

Sadness

omg tomorrow's my last day! Lisa just told me she's moving house on Friday so she wont be in which means I wont be in.

Sadness!!! I can't believe it's ending already, it's gone so quickly.

I've got a box of truly British Fortnum and Mason biscuits sorted already and will write a thank you card and am going to buy flowers tomorrow morning.
So the big question now is; which planned outfit do I ditch?? This is a serious dilemma.

NY Defeats Hardy Brits.

We so enjoyed Roman Holiday in Bryant Park last week that on Monday night we decided to return. We had no idea what film was playing, but it's the kind of cool place that will always be showing something either totally unheard of and weird and amazing, or a complete classic, and either one seemed good. Plus, the amazing setting and fun of a picnic (I am actually obsessed with picnics. I do not know why, but I love them. At every opportunity, I want to have a picnic) mean that even if you do hate the film, it wont be a bad evening. 

Unfortunately, however, the weather decided to conspire against us. We arrived early in order to nab a good spot (and have a picnic, obvs) but just twenty minutes before the film was due to begin it started to rain. Us being the hardy British girls that we are weren't perturbed. All my childhood summer holidays were spent sitting on a cold beach in England, resolutely refusing to be beaten by anything as irrelevant as a spot of driving rain. So we huddled under our umbrella and scorned at all the soft Americans hurriedly folding their picnic blankets and running away. 

But then the rain got distinctly heavier and the thunder started and with it our hardy Brit-Gal attitude began to soften, so that when a lightening bolt scarred the sky and there were puddles forming in our laps, even we had to admit that maybe it was time to go home. We gathered up our stuff and left, but having done the classic British thing of, in the midst of a torrential downpour, optimistically believing that it would clear up in two minutes, when we did, finally, admit defeat, we, and all our possessions, were really very wet. 

The weather had beaten us. 

Yes, we are ashamed. We hang our heads. We have let our country down. 

But moving on; we returned home and got dry and stopped looking like bedraggled rats. We even managed to skype some friends because it was still early enough that it wasn't actually four in the morning back home. 

They were at a party, but put us on video so that we could make an appearance because, obviously, a party isn't a party without our presence and we were clearly being greatly missed. No show without Punch. 

It all got a bit raucous and we couldn't really hear what was being said, apart from every now and then someone telling everyone else to err, put it in polite terms, go away. So we decided that maybe skyping at a party doesn't work that well and so we said our farewells. 

Then we finished off our picnic sitting cross legged on Rain's bed and laughed until our tummies hurt.