New York, I swear you are magic. I didn’t even mind waking up at a daunting 7am during Spring Break to wander the streets and imagine unlocking my phone to read about some rumor about myself on Gossip Girl. Upper East Side living doesn’t seem too shabby. To describe a typical day in the life of a New Yorker (this is most likely a glamorized version or a regular version for a dreaming tourist):
Run in Central Park.
Breakfast at Bergdorf’s.
Shop on Madison Ave.
Study/Blog in Brooklyn coffee shop.
Uber to SoHo.
Have tea and macarons at Ladurée.
Cab back to The Empire Hotel.
If you happen to actually live in New York, I would love to know the accuracy of this schedule. Feel free to just humor me.
I feel foolish dressing in anything other than this mild spring coat in none other than a zesty tangerine hue. The Marc by Marc Jacobs t-shirt reveals the tag fastened to the front of the shirt and sometimes I put it on and question whether or not it’s inside out. Fashion plays weird tricks on the mind.
I was in New York, the city of lights and romance, without the romance. I opted for boyfriend jeans rather than the real thing—much easier to manage and undeniably more runway.
The hair maintained a natural “windswept” appeal. By windswept, I mean I was shielding myself from the wind with it and it ended up looking like this.
Makeup was minimal because brunch was mandatory.
I am convinced that the magic of New York City makes the brisk weather more bearable and undoubtedly easier to dress for. The excitement sparks through your bloodstream and might literally make you warmer—just a theory I’m working on.