The list is so long, we know as we are making it that not everything we want to do will get done. But we are ambitious. We even consider a museum visit, knowing that will never happen. We plan to have a nice breakfast. I will go to the Farmer’s Market, get some fresh strawberries and eggs, and M will make the breakfast. She has a great egg recipe that she likes, and I have been wanting to try it.
I get up and go to the Farmer’s Market. By the time I get home, we are both anxious to get moving. We eat a rushed breakfast of strawberries and blueberries with some zero fat Greek yogurt, with a teaspoon of honey and granola. We have too much to get done to consider the whole egg thing.
I quickly put my makeup on. Some tinted moisturizer. Cream blush. Mascara. And lipstick. I look in the mirror and am not happy with what I see. I am so pale. “You look fine," M tells me when I ask. “You just need to put a little makeup on.”
We tell Alexander we’ll call him about lunch. “We’ll meet you somewhere nice,” we promise. Mussels are considered. We leave around 10.
Our first stop is La Terrine, my favorite little store for fine dinnerware and linens. By the time we leave, M and Kathy (one of the owners) are best friends.
We stop along Lex at a few shoe stores and a couple of clothing stores, but no damage is done at any. But now we are both hungry, and don’t want to stop for a long lunch. Still too much to do. So we pop into a Pinkberry and each have a mini passion fruit yogurt that tastes like sorbet and is only 3 points, according to M. It’s delicious, but not nearly as satisfying as a bowl of mussels. I call Alexander and he is understanding of our change in plans.
We make an unexpected detour into a pet store and end up playing with an adorable Havanese we dub Lucy. Good that I didn't have an extra $2,800 and a larger apartment, or I would be training Lucy right now.
Bloomingdales is our next stop. We get as far as the Armani cosmetic counter, where M and I meet Joey, who happens to be from M’s hometown. He’s a makeup artist, and tells us that it’s been his dream since age five. His father is a homicide detective and an older brother is a cop. Joey is gregarious, talented, and talkative. And, he wears makeup so beautifully you would never know he has it on.
M sits down and Joey begins his artistry. When he is done, an hour and a half later, M looks sensational, but we are both in a hurry to leave. While waiting for M, I get a quick makeover at the Yves St. Laurent counter across the way. I had begun the day looking drab and washed out, but emerge from Bloomingdales feeling glamorous and flirty.
Next stop is Chinatown where M has promised to find a friend a fake Chanel white watch. Since this item is not sold legally, we have to be secretive in approaching the many stalls that line Canal Street. Some vendors are more trusting than others. One stoic Chinese salesman ignores M completely. When she insists on asking him if he has the watch she is looking for he says, “Go way. You look like FBI.” He tells us to try Macy’s.
Around 4, we take the subway home, exhausted and hot from a long day of shopping.
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