Sunday in midtown Manhattan is like a fashion show and a wonderland all mixed into one. I stop at a Starbucks to charge my phone and take a rest, as I've been out and about since 8A.M. I couldn't sleep.
Light spilling into the Upper East Side Starbucks windows has made my chipped mint green nails glitter like new. I'm looking out on to the busy street in front of me, my shambolic blond hair tarnishing the reflection of the chrome office building across the street. Innocent bystanders may even mistake me for someone who is put together. It's sunny and beautiful. I spent the morning on FaceTime with my mom and brother. I showed them around Times Square and as soon as 11A.M. hit. I knew to get out of there because the tourists would soon flood it and make the streets unbearable for travel.
I swill down a strawberry refresher and position myself by a plug so I could charge my phone. I'm in no hurry so I sit down to read the all-important holy grail of fashion magazines, Vogue and look out at all of New York's beautiful people. Vogue is something I treat myself to when I'm feeling good. Glittery Balmain dresses, svelte shiny models and Christian Louboutin shoes cover the pages and make me feel closer to all that is gold. I wear chick Taylor's but revel in reading about fall's new Manolo's. I look up briefly to catch the shiny reflection of a peculiar little girl carrying an iPad in a Chanel shopping bag. Wow. She smiles at me, waves and points at my hair. I laugh through the window and wave back. She mouths, "you look nice!" and I make a silly face at her. She snickers and skips off to catch her mother, a fashionable brunette wearing Tom Ford sunglasses and this season's black Prada weekender bag. She's thin as a rail and looks like a shiny, plastic mannequin. Her hair whips in the wind.
They're a pretty pair, walking arm and arm toward Central Park. I start to miss my mom. They sparkle, and for a second I did too. Kindness is infectious. I look back at the magazine and become fixated on a photo of Kate Moss wearing a flower crown, looking like an Arcadian princess. I'm calm, and even a little bit happy. Things are nice today. The weather is beautiful and I'm not jealous, just appreciative that in this city of millions, people are magnificent when they want to be. Even on a lazy Sunday where things are running slower in the city that never sleeps, there's always time to stop and appreciate where you are, where you've been and where you can go. I close up Vogue, pluck my phone from the wall and step out into the New York sun. It beats down with the intensity of a model walking down the Alexander McQueen catwalk.
I blast the Rolling Stones' Jumpin' Jack Flash in my headphones and strut into Central Park. The humid breeze makes it feel like you're in a swimming pool, but people are still outside enjoying the day. I buy a soft pretzel from a street vendor and sit, looking out at a spastic crane that looks drunk as It crosses the water. I laugh a bit to myself and finish reading. When I get too hot to live I just leave the magazine on a bench, hoping that some other fashion lover will sit down and read it too. It's great to appreciate where you are, stop and think. Sit outside in the sweltering heat, and let go of the fear...if only for one day.