More New York Highlights

Last Wednesday, Joan and I started our day heading to the New York Public Library, which was glorious. Now that’s how books should be treated. On marble pedestals, in a huge quiet orderly place, where the vaulted ceilings are painted like lovely summer skies, flanked by a park with a huge fountain and a tiny carousel and tall shady sycamores.

And with noble lions to greet you!

And a sidewalk with interesting quotes from books. Like this one from Picasso.

(Nature and art, being two different things, cannot be the same thing. Through art we express our conception of what nature is not.)
And this one from E. B. White, which seemed oddly appropriate for me.

(I do not know which is more discouraging, literature or chickens.)
What I wish I had a picture of was me and Joan taking these last two pictures. We had to shade the plaques so that the words would be visible, so we had to stand together, hang our bags in the right spot, hold our legs together just so, then shoot. It must’ve been hysterical.
We also did some shopping that day. We went to the Garment District and followed Liana‘s sage advice and went to Paron West’s annex. I got a great deal on some nice brown wool, which I plan to use for a fall skirt . . .

. . . and on some crazy wild almost-hideous cotton prints for a project I have planned.

We hit a few other stores in the area, marveling at the limitless options for trim, beadwork, ribbon, and lace. Then Joan went to the top of the Empire State Building, while I went to H&M. I am not crazy about heights, plus have been hearing about H&M for years. I felt like a kid in a candy store at first, but then realized I’m a candy snob and will only eat Scharffen Berger and that fantastic Green and Black dark chocolate that Becky gave me. The clothes were indeed stylish and cute and cheap, but really shoddily made. I still tried some on, but they fit terribly. The new look with the bunched fabric under an empire waist must look fantastic on pregnant women, but on me, absurd. I did find a nice cashmere sweater that is sort of a ballet wrap. It wasn’t cheap, but a good find, so I splurged.
I met Joan at St. Patrick’s Cathedral, and got this blurry picture of a stained glass window. I felt like I was in Europe.

That night we went to see Jersey Boys, which was fun. I’m not a big fan of musicals, and the story is a series of cliches, even if based on fact–the rise of Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons–but I had a fantastic time. The music was great. It was so hard not to get up and dance! (Though I did dance a bit at the end during the standing ovation/encore.) They even sang “Working My Way Back to You,” which was my brother’s favorite song for about a year when we were wee. He played it over and over and over . . . If there were a soundtrack to my childhood, that song would have to be included.

We despaired trying to find a taxi, so walked past Times Square until we could find a bar that didn’t seem to be a pickup joint. We stopped at Un, Deux, Trois and had a drink. I had a sidecar, I think. It’s fuzzy after that. We might’ve caught a cab, we might’ve walked. It was fun, however it went! That much I do recall!