Didn’t hear about day one? Well, it was thrilling, check it out here.
Cody and I weren’t ever sure if the beds at the W were comfortable. We were so tired we didn’t have time to notice, meaning New York hotels could make you sleep on box springs and you wouldn’t even notice because you’re so busy trying to remember what it’s like to be bored.
We set out on a private tour of the city in the morning with the other bloggers involved with the Vivienne Tam HP campaign, to say it wasn’t awkward at first would be a lie, we were all from different parts of the nation and we all had such different areas of focus in our blogs it was hard to do the “pick of where you left off on your blog blogger meet and greet.” Thankfully lunch came and one thing we could all agree on besides how lucky we were to be there was that bacon is awesome.
Somehow the topic of bacon vodka came up. Sierra, a tech blogger from Oregon, said she had found the recipe online and given that she hosted Baconfest in her home town and knew an apple wood smoked piece of fried pork from a hickory smoked slice, I dare say she was the perfect candidate for bacon vodka. She even labeled it “Styy Vodka” and gave it out to her friends. Apparently it’s lovely if you lick mayo off your hand, shoot the vodka and follow it with a tomato.
Retch or salivate at will, there was mixed emotions at lunch too.
Speaking of retching. It is New York law that calorie contents be included in menus.
Maybe it’s just me but when I go out to eat I enjoy staying blissfully ignorant to what I’m stuffing my face full of. However when you’re in the mood for a cheeseburger and it’s in giant black type that said cheeseburger with fries contains over 1,800 calories? French onion soup with no cheese begins looking really tasty.
There should be no fat people in New York with this law. But don’t do it in Indiana, I like being ignorant out here.
On our tour we stopped of in Chinatown (Canal Street) which borders Little Italy.
Little Italy smells really, really good. As if the streets were paved with garlic. Outside handsome men with Italian accents beg you to dine on their pomodoro, nosh on their lasagna, I could get used to Little Italy (as long as there’s no calorie counts on the menus.)
We stopped at a place promising us the “PLANET EARTH’S BEST CANNOLI” when truly all we were in search of was a clean potty. I have never had a cannoli by which to judge planet Earth’s best cannoli, but if it truly was the best cannoli on the planet?
I do not like cannoli.
One block away we started the trek down Canal (Chinatown) back to our tour bus.
Chinatown does not smell as good as Little Italy.
Our tour guide had told us about the “underground handbag business” on Canal Street and promised us that while we wouldn’t get hurt, we would definitely come home with a unique experience. A young Chinese girl on a street corner whispered “Coach? Handbag? Miss?” to me as I walked by, I smiled and told her “No thank you.”
Cody had different ideas.
“I want to see one of these places!” so being the dumb tourists, we continued down the street hoping for any whispers of “Handbag?” Sure enough we were approached, and let me tell you, just like in a Borne movie, you realize EVERY SINGLE PERSON AROUND YOU is in on the scheme, all sorts of handbag schleppers came from no where. We walked back down the street ten feet behind until we were ushered into a secret store and taken behind a fake sliding wall to a room full of fake fake fake. A Prado (have you seen Serendipity?) caught my eye and the girl said “Thirty.” Cody quickly came back with “TEN!” and was laughed at. We made it out without a handbag but with a whole new respect for Chinatown and those willing to go to such lengths to have a fake bag.
Our tour then stopped at the 9/11 memorial. I dedicated an entire post to that here…nothing more needs to be said.
When we got back to our hotel I had a couple of hours to get ready for our first event at the Vivienne Tam boutique. Now this is where I tell you about the major freak out I had before leaving over WHAT TO WEAR TO A FASHION EVENT DURING FASHION WEEK IN NEW YORK. I played it safe and went LBD (little black dress.) with a kicky clutch (Metalia informed me that BIG BAGS at evening events are what make the out of towners really obvious. Aside from the look of fear on their face of course.)
Photo by Beth
“Is that Prada?” asked a gay man wearing a cape.
“Honey, I’m from the Midwest, this is Ann Taylor summer of ’07 clearance rack for $24.”
He leaned in close and said “I’m from Michigan, my pants were $20 and my shoes were $500. Just say it’s Prada, they totally did this whole lace thing last season, no one will know.”
After the party we were whisked away to dinner at a Brazilian Steakhouse. Or as I like to call it “BaconLove Part II.” A man with a deep southern accent seated to the right of me proclaimed “BAC’N! Y’all wrap yuh Teh-kee in BAYCUN? I could git used to ‘dis.”
I really think I disappointed the waiter when I insisted on only water.
“You like red wine better?”
“No, thank you, water’s fine.”
“We have a full bar! Maybe a cocktail?”
“No, really, water’s fine.”
“You’re sure no white wine? I’m taking your wine glass if you don’t want wine.” (Said like a threat.)
“Go ahead, really, I’m fine with water.”
I’ll spare you the details of when I politely refused coffee and a dessert wine after dinner.
We walked back to the hotel after dinner, my feet swearing at me in seven different languages they had learned on Canal Street earlier that day. Little did they know what they were in for the next day.
To be continued…