There you have it! My wedding plus one etiquette, straight from my experience at a wedding where I knew NO ONE but my date! I survived, thrived really, it was a blast!
When Carrie Bradshaw said, “Shopping is my cardio.”she was revealing a real option here in New York City. It’s easy to walk several miles in this city without even thinking about it. As an individual with a disposition for being chronically late, it’s not uncommon to see me literally running down the street, trying to get to an appointment on time. This life style has whittled me down to a size 2 without ever setting foot in a gym. What I save in gym memberships I spend on shoes, with so much walking, I constantly wear out pairs. It sounds like the perfect situation right? Not quite… Lately I’ve found myself unable to open peanut butter jars because my upper body strength is pathetic. Looking at pictures from a friend’s recent wedding, my first thought is “The bride is beautiful!” my second, “My posture is horrible!” My NYC “exercise plan” wasn’t cutting it any more. I needed to add something else…
That’s when Miz Mooz New York City delivered everything I wanted and more. This shoe company began in NYC with a dedication of combining fashion and comfort. With footwear that combines “vintage styling, hand finished leather, and unique and unexpected detailing” these are the perfect shoes to run all over town with out your feet hurting. Made out of durable materials, I won’t wear them down to the sole after just one season. Perhaps most importantly, they are cute as all get out with styles appropriate for casual to dressy occasions.
To celebrate their new fall styles, Miz Mooz New York City invited me and several other New York City bloggers to an evening of yoga at Brooklyn Bridge Park. Stylish city shoes and a kick in the pants to start a yoga routine? How did they know everything I needed this fall? Maybe I should’ve been a little freaked out that they read my mind. Instead I was just excited! It sounded like a great event!
It was even better than I hoped. The sun was just beginning to dip below the skyline when we arrived at Brooklyn Bridge Park. Orange yoga mats reading Miz Mooz New York City #MizMoozMoves were set up in rows, waiting for us in the golden light. “Shoes? Shoes I know.” (Again I’m quoting Carrie Bradshaw.) Yoga? Not so much. After admiring the Spanish leather boots and oxford lace ups in perfect fall browns, blacks, and tans, I headed over to my yoga mat. Almost as embarrassing as my lack of upper body strength is my lack of flexibility. Was I about to embarrass myself so badly I’d never be able to show myself to a yoga mat again?
My friend Jen and I gearing up for yoga! Let’s do this!Here we are in the middle of it! I’m of course the one ruining the picture by scratching my ear in the middle of the pose.
No. Our teacher Kelly was wonderful. She was calm and commanding at the same time making us all feel like we were in good hands. The hour class was just the right level of challenging. It made me want to get better, to start doing yoga regularly. Now I have that I have perfect sunny #MizMoozMoves yoga mat and the knowledge that I can downward dog without dying, I certainly have less excuses. The Miz Mooz New York City Fall 2014 style certainly make me want to strut them all over the city. It seems I found my perfect exercise combo right here, sweating in the waning sunlight and stretching my meager muscles!
After the sun set and just before my muscles cried out “NO MORE!” we sealed our practice with a chant of “ommm”. The peacefulness of yoga, the comradery of all moving together, combined with the sparkle of city lights and color changing sun. It was magical. If this doesn’t get me doing yoga, nothing will. And if this boots don’t leave you looking find the perfect pair of fall leather boots, nothing will.
These were my favorites. Appropriately named “Flirt” They come in black, brown, and red. I adore red shoes! Spanish leather with a 3.25 inch heel and decorative zipper, they’re perfect to dress up or wear with jeans. Check out all the Miz Mooz New York City Fall ’14 styles on their website!
My friend Jen, who attended the event with me, and I left Brooklyn Bridge Park feeling awesome, from the tippy top of our heads to the bottom of our toes! We had to show off our awesome Miz Mooz goodie bags, yoga mats, with another incredible view of the skyline and Brooklyn Bridge! Thanks to the Spanish tourist who took our picture!
Thanks Miz Mooz New York City for sponsoring this post and such an amazing event! I owe you big for setting me on a yoga kick and putting a kick in my step as I run around town this season!
If I lived anywhere else in the country, all my peers (and perhaps myself?) would be getting married right now. New York cliché: People in NYC get married later. (Or not at all). Oh sure, I’ve been to a wedding or two (sometimes accidentally), but I’m not at all in a position of all of my friends are engaged or every weekend there’s another wedding. I know plenty of people who are in that position, their bank accounts hurting, their tiny New York closets crammed with cocktail to black tie attire. Typically they’re a couple of years older than me, or hail from a hometown much more traditional than my beloved San Francisco.
The fella I’m dating (yep, it’s still going on) qualifies on both these accounts. He’s been to countless weddings in the past few years and frequently refers to a number of ladies as “my friend’s wife”.
When he invited me to be his plus one for the next wedding on his calendar, we’d only known each other a couple weeks.
“I know it’s early, but I want you to be my date.”
Yes, Elsa, I know. But what about going to a wedding with him?
The wedding was in Denver. A four plus hour flight and thus a whole weekend spent away. A weekend escape from NYC to a festive party in beautiful Colorado? You know I’m the biggest sucker for cake and dancing. (Plus, well, I kinda sorta actually like this guy.) It sure was tempting.
He sweetened the deal even more: “I’ll pay for your ticket.” You know I’m a sucker for free things.
“Should I go?” I asked pretty much anyone and everyone (including some of his friends: not my best idea).
“We haven’t known each other that long,” I sat in the kitchen, weighing the pros and cons with my roommate, “He could be an ax-murderer for all I know. What if he’s luring me to Colorado so he can chop me up into little pieces and sprinkle my remains along the Rocky Mountains?”
My roommate gets me, so rather than calling me dark, twisted, or crazy she instead said, “Well, I met him. I can pick his face out of any line up. If he murders you, I will get revenge.” Thanks, Rose.
My roommate would totes punch a prince for me.
“What if we hate each other by then?” I asked. The wedding in question was over two weeks away. I’ve certainly had changes of heart faster than that.
“I don’t see any way I could hate you,” he replied. I liked this answer.
“Okay,” I decided, “I’ll go. I want to go. Now. But if I hate you by the end of September, I reserve the right to back out. If you buy my ticket, you are taking that risk.”
It was a risk he was willing to take.
A wise choice on his part. The wedding is this weekend and I still very much want to go. I’m taking the day off work tomorrow, we fly out of NYC early in the morning. It’s my first wedding as someone’s plus one. I’m spending the whole weekend with this guy. I have a hunch it’s going to be a blast.
If I’ve been completely deceived and he reveals himself an ax murder, please remember me fondly. (Also try to get my blog made into a book, it should at least sell well post-mortem.)
I never know exactly what to say on this day. Yet I feel I must say something. That’s the way it is for me, for many, when it comes to loss. In times of pain, even pain that was 13 years ago, are words ever the best communication method?
Every year on September 11th I just want to wrap this city in a big hug and whisper I love you, New York. I don’t know where I’d be with out you. You’re amazing, you know that? Your bravery and resilience inspire me every day. I’m so proud of you. Oh, and I gotta say it- you’re so fucking beautiful it hurts sometimes.
This is the incredible metropolis I call home. I’m so lucky to have you in my life, New York. We all are. Never forget.
Remembering September 11th & honoring all those who gave their lives and those who rebuilt NYC from the ruble. My heart goes out to all New Yorkers whose lives were forever changed, in one way or another.
Saturday night I found myself at a bar in the midst of a boys’ night. I can hold my own in a group of men. Yes, I can.
Even when they’re all inebriated.
Just don’t expect me to go drink for drink. I’ll black out before they’re even buzzed.
Even when they’re all attractive.
Just don’t expect me to have crushes on all of them. I’ll pick my favorite, the (most ruggedly handsome) one who makes me laugh, thanks.
“I have a question for you. You have to answer honestly,” asked a guy whose name I had just painfully mispronounced.
I can hold my own, but when they start asking pointed questions, my stomach dips. Oh no, please not a question about threesomes. Please not something that’s going to make me roll my eyes or turn my face bright pink.
“Okay…” I said.
“Are you on Tinder?”
Ha! That’s a good question! I’m not rolling my eyes or blushing!
“Nope.” I laughed, answering honestly, “No, I am not. Not on Tinder.”
He squinted at me, “I don’t believe you.”
I laughed again. I wouldn’t believe me either, Friend-of-Boy-I-Have-a-Big-Ol’-Crush-On!
Every millennial and their roommate is on Tinder. The dating app has exploded into a cultural phenomenon, especially in New York City. How can I call myself a NYC blogger, who frequently writes about dating no less, and not be on Tinder? Do I owe it to my audience to be on this dating app? Tell me, dear reader, are you terribly disappointed I haven’t downloaded this app? Does the absence of Tinder in my life go so far as to discredit me as a New York Cliché?? PERISH THE THOUGHT!
I strongly considered joining Tinder. For you guys. For the sake of my NYC reputation. For everything this blog stands for.
It was with that last thought that I realized I couldn’t join Tinder; because doing so actually goes against something this blog stands for.
I won’t manipulate my life for the sake of writing about it. I’ve had that questioned a lot recently in light of a certain rom-com worthy first date. I’ve never consciously altered my behavior for the sake of a story. I never, ever have and I never, ever will manipulate other people so I have something to write about. I will say blogging has motivated me to do things I might not have otherwise, like attend a Jazz Age Lawn Party or haul my ass out of bed to go see the sunrise over Coney Island. I’m living my life and writing about the interesting parts. I’m not creating a life to write about. Honesty is always at the heart of New York Cliché.
Maybe someday I’ll want to join, for more of a reason than just to write about it. For now, meeting in the non-virtual, real world seems to be working just fine. Besides, you don’t need me! There’s no shortage of other bloggers and artists talking about Tinder!
You can check out photographer Kirra Cheers who photographed a series of her Tinder dates, with their permission, and turned her dating escapades into an artistic exhibition.
Then there’s the delightful Straight White Boys Texting which is always funny and often features ridiculously awful Tinder messages.
If you just want an article about what Tinder is and how much it’s exploded in the past year, GQ wrote a great and very thorough article, Love Me Tinder.
What are your thoughts on Tinder? Are you on it? Do you love reading people’s cringe-worthy experiences? Have you heard any great experiences? Want to try to convince me to join?
I stood at the Broadway-Lafayette subway station yesterday afternoon waiting for the train. The high heels that had made my legs look banging the night before now made me feel like a giant clomping around the city. A giant whose arches were beginning to ache. The dress which had elicited enthusiastic approval when I walked into a dimly lit bar late Saturday night felt a skosh too short for a Sunday. The stagnant, sweltering air of the subway tracks magnified my already intense desire to shower. I just wanted to go home.
I felt a little guilty. “Don’t go home! It’s the middle of Fashion Week! You should be a good blogger and go check out the festivities of Lincoln Center!” I scolded myself. “Yeah, but remember living by Lincoln Center? There’s nothing worse than walking through the center of Fashion Week when you don’t feel fabulous. You are not a model who can pull off the greasy hair/no make up look.”
The express train pulled up. That settled it. I’d be home in less than 30 minutes. No regrets.
The doors opened, I eagerly stepped into the cool air conditioning of the car. As if the subway door was the wardrobe of Narnia, I was suddenly transported to a different world. I take the subway several times a week. A trip home should be entirely routine. But on this subway car, on this particular Sunday afternoon, everything was different. I was dazzlingly disoriented.
The train car was full of people in formal attire. A photographer was snapping photographs. Men in suits laughed, conversing with women with pretty up-dos. Ladies holding bouquets sat on the orange seats, looking luminous even in the dingy light. In the center of the car, right where I walked in, a woman in a gorgeous white dress radiated happiness. People gravitated towards her, grabbing the subway poles and posing for pictures.
I boarded the subway and walked right into the middle of a party.
A wedding party.
I am so conditioned to New York Subway etiquette: maintain personal space bubble! Don’t converse with fellow riders! The train may be packed, your nose maybe dangerously close to a strangers armpit: you must pretend each other don’t exist! This is the mode I go to when I board the subway. I didn’t congratulate the bride. I didn’t ask any questions. I stood and gawked like an idiot. I pretended to mess around on my phone but I’m sure it was obvious I was taking pictures. Dizzy, disoriented, and a little smelly. That was me in the middle of this beautiful group on their way to a wedding reception.
There are some places I expect to feel under dressed in NYC. Like Lincoln Center in the middle of Fashion Week. There are other places I never expect to feel under dressed. Like the subway any day of the week.
It was great. Truly a New York moment. I couldn’t help smiling. I hope the bride or groom saw me. Maybe they’ll some how read this blog post. Hey guys! Congratulations on your wedding! Sorry I was in a subway daze and didn’t say anything! I thought it was so fun you guys chose to take the subway with all your guests! Thanks for brightening my Sunday afternoon!
Pier 66 on the Hudson River is a short jaunt from midtown Manhattan. It’s an oasis jutting out into the water, featuring free flowing booze from multiple bars, great views of NYC and New Jersey. It also docks the Frying Pan. 30 years ago the Frying Pan sat at the bottom of the Chesapeake Bay!
This formerly sunken ship now features a full bar, dance floor, and plenty of deck seating. It’s a little creepy and a lot of historic. Only in New York does taking and abandoned lightship and repurposing it into an event space sound like a fabulous idea.
Exploring the Frying Pan was the perfect thing to do during an afternoon rain storm. The rest of the day was gorgeous, sunny and hot. My girlfriends and I lounged at the bow of the barge. We sipped cocktails called “Light and Breezy” (rum and ginger beer, I’m a sucker for ginger beer) and sharing summer stories. Then we watched porn.
Cloud porn! (#cloudporn as they say on Instagram.)
The stormy sky really put on a good show. New Jersey starboard (right), Freedom Tower port (left).
The barge has two decks, including some sheltered seating. There’s a lot to explore and you’ll get totally different experiences depending on where you sit.
The very front of the barge, this is as close to New Jersey as you can get and still be safely in Manhattan.
Eastern view from the upper deck, that’s the Frying Pan on the right.
Uptown and harbor view from the upper deck.
View from the lower deck. New Jersey, a water wheel, and some random blonde!
New York is in the throws of a heat wave right now, it’s a good thing this sign was here to remind us not to dive in. After a couple drinks it’s easy to forget how polluted the Hudson is and be temped by a cool dip.
We were treated to a rainstorm instead! I love summer storms that cool off blisteringly hot days and don’t last too long.
Pier 66 and the Frying Pan remain open throughout September as well as October- as long as the temperature remains above 65 degrees. Go as west as you can on 27nd Street and you’ll end up at the end of the barge! The perfect get-away for when you can’t actually get away. Or just live vicariously through me and my beautiful Labor Day!
Did you enjoy your holiday weekend? Are you from a country that doesn’t have silly holidays like America does? Maybe I’m in the minority here, but I’m not ready to embrace fall yet. Nope, no pre-mature pumpkin spice for me. I plan to summer it up until the proper equinox!
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