My Very Own Carrie moment...

Hello, Wednesday- good afternoon. Been at it in the movesphere and it's ON- November 30th is our move date and we're so not ready but luckily will have Turkey weekend to figure it all out- no trytophan comas for us. I wanted to share a funny tale and tell you why I'm one lucky girl.

So this Carrie Bradshaw chick- think you may be familiar with her, non? I'm not sure who any of you females out there think you are that you can't relate to her at all, because Carrie lives in all of us, and I care not if you like shoes or tutus or Mr. Bigs. It matters not because Carrie represented something for all of us who were living an urban dream of singledom, fabulousness, and a love affair with New York. And besides all of that, she has always been a bit of my celebrity doppelganger- we both have angular faces, though I would surely kill for her bod, and a sliver of her wardrobe. In any event, there's always been a bit of Carrie in my step, or at least I'd like to think so  (what, you'd rather by more like Miranda? Ech).

So the other day, when my very own Mr. Big found our dream apartment for us, he mentioned that there is a space across the hall from us that could be rented as a home office. Naturally I loved the idea but turns out I like to work from my sofa and don't need to report to work anymore- even if it is only across the all. So we moved on without it, until I saw the apartment for myself.

I love the place- it's fabulous and cool and in a great neighborhood that has the right mix of Brooklyn soul. But here's the deal- the closet space. THE. CLOSET. SPACE.

It's not terrible, but it ain't great. I struggled to think of ways to make it work, but then began to think I may have to part with some of my wardrobe, which vexed me to no end. And then, like magic, the space across the hall seemed like the perfect solution- the answer to a fashionista's prayers. An enormous closet, complete with bathroom and ample space for all my crap. And David's too. So just like in the movie but maybe not on Park Avenue, my man gave me one of the best things a girl could ever ask for- closet space. It may not come with a view of the park, but I'm cool with that. I'm already thinking of how cute I can make it, though David has rejected the idea of pink walls. I am however, going ot make it the mack spot- and I'm purchasing this Jackie O. print from CB2 to start- Jackie can be the patron saint of my closet, even though I'm channeling Carrie more than Jackie but the cool stare of Jackie will help me choose wisely each day, I'm sure of it...

So yes, this may seem insane to you, but I honestly feel so relieved now- a gal needs a closet, whether you're more Carrie, Jackie, or anything in between. After all, it's New York.  I need to dress accordingly...and that my luvs, is what's up with my Carrie Bradshaw moment in my post Sex and the City existence in my last two weeks in the MIA. Never underestimate the power of good closet space, or a man who understands your need for such things. Please come visit. XO