Tom and I do city travel well together. We're, like, all over the hotels and the coffee and the doughnuts and the organic vegan restaurants. When we first arrived in NYC this past weekend, when Tom went to park the car, I started situating our hotel room (chargers in the sockets, toothpaste by the sink, remotes by the bed) in the way that we do. Getting settled is real. As soon as Tom walked back into the room he said "there's one of those thrift store type places right down the street [ed note: he was talking about Buffalo Exchange]...do you wanna go shopping with me?" Oh buddy, DO I. And thus began our weekend.
So, yeah, you know. We work well navigating new (and familiar) city streets together. We're still working on our beach thing though. Our beach thing could use some help. He's much more of a do-er, like he doesn't bring a book to the beach. He says....so what's next? And I'm like, laying in this exact spot for hours is what's next. With a pile of magazines in my lap and a sandy rum and coke by my side.It's just that there's not much else to do at the beach than beach so he ends up getting bored.
I had a super stupidly good day on Saturday. Tom and I spent our Saturday afternoons doing two very different things: I meandered from Chelsea to Midtown to Soho to the West Village and back....and Tom whiled away his hours in the depths of the New York Public Library workin on that family tree. I like that we're cool with splitting up to do our own thing, girl, and then getting back up for dinner and midnight tickets to the MoMA (more on the Matisse show coming. I'm writing about it for a client and figured I could just post that here).
Anyway, back to my Saturday. Navigating the streets New York by myself on Saturday afternoon is exactly what I imagine my New York life would be if a New York life I had. It was a lazy, relaxing day of wandering into and out of shops. That's like my favorite thing in the world! The streets make sense to me in New York. The people are nice. I feel comfortable and not nervous while I'm there. It's invigorating to me, not draining. There are just some places that make sense to you where the vibe is right and you don't feel lonely even if you happen to be alone. New York is one of those places for me. Savannah too. Charleston and Baltimore are two cities who are maybe meant for some people, but not meant for me (no offense, Charleston. OFFENSE, BALTIMORE. You know what you did). Also, is there any better feeling in the whole wide world than native New Yorkers mistaking you for a native New Yorker? There is, probably, maybe like biting into a Milk Bar candy bar pie for the first time, but still. Validation.
I spent the whole of my Sunday morning writing in the lobby of the Ace Hotel. I gathered my things quietly around 8am in our darkened hotel room (Tom has a propensity for late nights and later mornings) and set off down Broadway a whole block and a half to fetch my medium vanilla latte and post up at one of the old desks in the middle of the Ace Hotel Lobby (it's actually the desk with the lamp behind the couch in the lobby photo above). Let me state - for the record - that I would like to be buried in the Ace Hotel lobby in NYC. I would also like to live in the Ace Hotel lobby before I'm buried there. I know that Patti Smith, Robert Mapplethorpe and the rest of the cool kids preferred the Hotel Chelsea but give me Stumptown Coffee or give me death! That whole place oozes cool; if only that kind of cool were contagious...oh, I'd gladly break that fever. It was dark, sexy, and vibey even at 9am on a Sunday morning. The staff were nice, charming even! and the guests were 50 Shades of Chic. Everything and everyone was chill and relaxed; it was hipster but not pretentious. It was scene-y but not intimidating. I. Loved. It. I still love it. I think about it every day. I want it to be my home.
Also, I used this Soap and Glory body cream and holy LORD did I have to go right out to Sephora yesterday and buy a tub. It smells heavenly in a major way.