Saks and the City

As previously mentioned, I’m in the market for a new Chanel bag. Ever since I returned my turquoise metallic quilted 2.55 Chanel flap bag, I have regretted it. I miss it very much.

Yada yada yada.

As a result of this obsession, I have a few stories.

I like to do my homework when I’m in the market for a purchase. So, I go shopping. One day I popped into Saks Fifth Avenue to take a look at the Chanel department. I was inspecting some of the cheaper bags. About $2200. Hmm. A bargain!

Suddenly, a salesgirl was on me. She was statuesque, blond, well dressed, face totally made up, and striking. Her name was Svetlana and she had a thick Russian accent. I made the mistake of telling her that I was looking for a classic flap bag. She ran away for a minute and came back with a black calfskin single flap jumbo bag with silver hardware. It was gorgeous.

She told me it was on sale. Only $4000.

Wow! What a deal!

Except I was looking for a jumbo black calfskin double flap with gold hardware. But it WAS a bargain. The one I wanted would be more.

It was lovely.

I looked at myself in the mirror for a while. And I looked good!

Svetlana needed to excuse herself for a moment to leave me with the Chanel. Before she left she warned, “Do not let go of the bag. People are looking at it.”

I had noticed that another salesgirl kept approaching Svetlana and whispering something, then looked at some other customers. Then walked away.

They were staring. Not at me.

At Chanel.

It was freaky.

And such pressure!

While Svetlana was gone, I was trying to figure out what to do. The bag WAS a good price. But it wasn’t exactly what I had wanted. For that money, it really should be exactly what I want. Right?

But then again, it was fabulous.

Maybe I should just buy it. The vultures are circling. Omg!

The other salesgirl was hovering.

Customers were still staring.

They were like zombies in a Dawn of Dead re-make.

I was sweating.

My heart was racing.

The other salesgirl passed and stared at me again.

As the time passed, I began to calm down a bit.

I thought, I need to either buy this thing or get the heck out of here. But do I have a credit card I can use? Do I have the money? No! Ugh!

If I leave now, I won’t have the pressure of Svetlana and her damn accent trying to convince me to buy this thing.

I kind of had a tiny angel on one shoulder telling me to leave and a red devil on my other shoulder telling me to buy it.

Damn them!

I put down the Chanel and hightailed it outa there.

As I exited the large double doors and stepped onto Fifth Ave.

I was able to breathe.

Holy shit, that was close!

Dancing With the Star

I attended a gala last weekend.

Gilles Marini, the sex-on-a-stick hunk from the first Sex and the City movie was going to be honored there.

Before going, I fantasized about meeting him.

I envisioned the meeting in my head.

It was kinda like the law of attraction.

Because I met him! Almost the same way I pictured it in my mind.

We were at cocktail hour and I saw Gilles from afar. Oo! And he was…

… Sex-on-a-stick all right.

I almost spit up a mini crab cake when I spotted him.

He was even dreamier than he is in the movie and on Dancing With the Stars.

Later on, at the dinner, I saw him taking pictures with some women.

I thought, “Let me get my camera!”

And another woman at my table grabbed me and announced, “We’re gonna meet him!”

I was in.

So we B-lined it over to Gilles, who was glowing on the dance floor.

Snapping pix with this one and that one.

Then, he turned around and looked right at me and said, “Whew!”

I smiled and nuzzled next to him. Unable to breathe.

His arm, around my waist.

Mine around his.

On the outside, I was giggling. But on the inside I was screaming with glee, “Gilles!!!!”

The camera flashed and he was gone.

But it’s three days later and I am still happy.

A new couch or a new pair of shoes?

My couch is ripped.

But I have thousand dollar shoes.

---

Hmmm.

What’s wrong with this picture?

Hmmm.

I can select and buy a pair of fabulous and expensive Christian Louboutins in a hot minute. But a couch?

I can’t decide.

Too expensive.

A pair of my shoes are most likely much more expensive than a couch.

So, I’m dragging my feet on this.

But I guess I really don’t care that much. Otherwise I would have bought a couch by now. Wouldn't I?

I’d rather look fabulous outside the house than in.

But then, I wonder why I don’t invite anybody over.

Then again, really. Who’s coming over?

Wardrobe Malfunction!

I love the fashion of the 1940’s.

My mother has kept a lot of the clothes she wore back then. I love to wear it. So I go through her closets often.

There’s a suit from the 50’s that I like to wear. The last time I wore it was in the 80’s. But I found it in my closet recently and thought I could resurrect it. Since I finally waxed my legs for spring, I decided to wear it to work yesterday.

Put it on.

Yey, it fits!!

Even with my minor weight gain.

Looked fantastic.

Off to work!

Get my coffee.

Jump in my car.

Rrrrrrrriiiiiiiiippppppp!!!!!!

“Huh?”

“Did I hear something?”

“Was it a rip?”

“No. It couldn’t be.”

Started the car.

“I must have imagined it.”

Turned on Elvis Duran on Z100.

“Let me just check.”

Reached down and felt the back of the skirt around my bottom. All I could feel was my tights.

“Oh no!”

“It’s ripped!!”

Now what was I gonna do? If I go back up and change, I’ll be late. If I go to work, I’ll have a three-foot rip in my skirt all day.

Guess I’m going up to change.

Called work to tell them I was going to be late.

Scurried up and found the first dress I could find.

Stepped into it.

Zipped it up. “Ah. Thank goodness it fits!”

Went right back out the door.

Made it to work only 15 minutes late.

I got compliments all day on my dress.

Go figure.

BSM Meets SJP

I went to the New York City Ballet opening on Wednesday night. Yenta Hessa wrote me there would be celebs there, but I was skeptical.

I went straight from work, so I was not dressed up. Luckily, I was wearing my fabulous long animal print coat.

As we walked up to Lincoln Center on the warm spring evening, I took in the beauty of the area. As I came closer to the theatre doors, I saw a crowd. There were paparazzi and a red carpet. Mind you, the red carpet was about eight feet long. Somehow, I always thought it was longer.

Stopped and stared. Well, there were no people yet. But waited a minute.

One or two folks went onto the red carpet.

Then, I heard Yenta say, “There’s Sarah Jessica Parker.”

“Whaaaat? Where?”

I looked and looked. And there she was. SJP!

I love her.

I am a big Sex and the City fan. Obsessed.

I looked down to grab my cell phone. I still didn’t get an iPhone. By the time I get it working, she was gone. Blocked by the paps.

Damn.

But I could see her shoes.

Christian Louboutin nude patent leather pumps.

Fabulous!