Day four of New York Fashion Week was a rough day for this blogger without a handbag (an experiment inspired by Emmanuelle Alt’s chic handbaglessness), but it was not for lack of a satchel. It was more about taking the subway from Brooklyn on a weekend when the subway was undergoing construction. We got off trains that were delayed, we got on trains going the wrong way, we waited a long time for trains going the right way, which turned into express trains and passed by our stop. In the end, We missed the two fashion shows we’d intended to attend that day.
We drowned our sorrows in Cuban food on the Upper West Side. Plantains, plus my dear husband, who again was carrying the camera (though I left the computer at home), made it all tolerable. Later we stopped by Lincoln Center to get a fashion fix, and wound up with a standing ticket to the Cynthia Steffe runway show, where I ran into the adorable Marissa Goodman (photo TK) of Google’s Boutiques.com.
My outfit this day was problematic. I wanted to wear my long black skirt, but it was made from the type of cotton that would greedily collect hairs from my white vintage fur jacket. So I was left only with my navy blue wool cape, which paired with the long skirt made me look as if I were wearing a habit. I chose to solve the problem by wearing only my wool cropped Urban Renewal blazer and borrow my excellent friend Kate’s elbow length knit gloves. Ditching the cape reduced the number of pockets available to me and created storage problems. I stuffed lipstick in my breast pocket, carried my card holder in my hand, and hung my camera around my neck (for which I forgot the battery. The stars were not aligned for me this day). Still, I was pretty thrilled with the outfit when I left the house. But then when I saw this photo (despite the fact that I’m wearing my favorite Bob Dylan t-shirt), I feel as if I might resemble Tiny Tim’s poor, beleaguered mother. What do you think?