My New York story (we all have one).

Good morning, Wednesday. It is mad gloomy outside as well as super soupy and bad hair producing. Yikes.

So yesterday in New York was a tough day- you can't help but feel shivery walking around the city on 9/11- remembering where you were and what you did and thinking about the horror you experienced in the town you loved the very most. On my way to the office this am, I was thinking about what it is that got me here, to New York, and why I always wanted to live here. Everybody has a New York story. Why they moved here, how they got here, that kinda thing. Here's mine.

It's no secret I've had a lifelong obsession with fashion. It is probably the one red thread. I have loved since I could first match my purse to my outfit. Which was at about 3 or 4, for those keeping score.

And as I reached my teens and possibly a year or two before, I fantasized about a life in New York. A life surrounded by fashionable people doing fashionable things. Now everyone's reason for wanting to be here is different, but I realize my raison d'etre when it comes to New York always comes back to fashion. And I suppose it's strange that I didn't really end up working in that world. I tried, mind you. But as you know, it was not for me early in my career. No skin was thick enough to tolerate that crap back in the day. 

But maybe what I love most about New York besides my friends and the excitement and the lifestyle is the fact that this is the fashion capital of the country, if not the world.  And even though we don't make a ton of clothes here anymore, I still get a bit of a thrill walking around the Garment Center. I love all the trim shops. I love the racks being pushed down the street. I love the wackiness of it all. And since it's been fashion week, all the fashion people are about. And though Instagram has created far too many of them (many without any true style), it's still so much fun to just watch it- there's a very real energy in the air depending on where you are in town.  To watch those Celine trucks go by in Soho to sell a new designer. I'm not sure many realize just how in love I am with all of it. Still. Even in these crazy times. Possibly even more so. Because it still gives me joy. Many of you say "fashion is irrelevant" or "who bloody cares" but meh. I still care. And I most likely always will.

I guess my point is that even though I occasionally dabble in the fashion world, I just feel lucky to be in a city that supports that industry. And even though the shows are a bit pointless now with the seasonal cycles being sped up to meet consumer demand, I just love that they're here. That's enough to keep me here for as long as I can take it. 

I just think it's so cool that people come here because they connect with something special, something they want, something they want to achieve. I know we all want that in life, but New York has more special sauce in that regard. Of this I'm certain. That's why it's so damn hard to live here. And as I stroll through Soho to take a walk at lunchtime today, it won't be hard to remember what I'm doing here. And though I'd love to get back involved with fashion, I'm just happy to be around it. And to live in a city where I can walk down the street and see past the Instagram street style dorks and spot somebody or something truly fabulous. And that's really all I need. That and another latte. And some George Michael. It's that kind of day.

Cause that's what's up this I STILL love New York kind of Wednesday in the 212. Yours, in big city girls. XO

(PS- that photo above is by Peter Lindbergh of Linda Evangelista in the early 90s- amazing, right?)