I got married in a BCBGMAXAZRIA party dress that I ordered online from Nordstrom’s for $288. Because my dress budget was low, my shoe budget was high. Until that point, the most expensive shoes I’d ever purchased were a pair of Steven by Steve Madden satin paisley d’Orsay pumps for $89.99, which I adored and… Read more »
Can you be in love with a city—real, complex, complicated love? Absofuckinglutely. Can you be irritated, frustrated, and pissed with said city? Posifuckingtively. After posting last week’s ode to New York, I read a refreshing, candid article in W magazine (I know—it’s the last place I’d expect to find anything refreshing and candid either) by… Read more »
Last week, as I re-watched “Models and Mortals” in preparation for this column, I realized something startling: I am finally as old as Carrie was in Season One. I am finally 32. Ten years ago, on September 11th, 2001, I was living in New York for the first time, subletting a place on 137th Street… Read more »
Last Saturday night I went to a get together at my friend’s apartment in Astoria. The event was a clothing swap, a popular phenomenon of late. You prepare for a clothing swap by going through your closet and removing all of the items you know you’ll never wear again. You put your pile of discards… Read more »
Taking the Sex and the City bus tour is not unlike going to a Broadway show. You buy your ticket in advance. You arrive at the venue and someone shows you to your seat. You squeeze in tight rows, knee to knee with strangers, and wait for the curtain to rise. As a tour guide, I… Read more »
Faithful readers may recall that last week I was traveling through the Scottish Highlands with my husband and his friend (Almost Elaine?, 9.1.11). When I got home, I looked up the Highlands on Wikipedia, and according to that highly reliable source, the area is “one of the most sparsely populated in Europe. The average population… Read more »
Last Friday night I flew to Scotland to see a play that my husband directed for the Edinburgh Festival Fringe. The plan was to stay in Edinburgh for the final three performances and then spend a week exploring the rest of the country with my husband and the playwright, a man who also happens to… Read more »
I had a genuine Sex and the City weekend. I went to Atlantic City with my three best girlfriends (real-life translation: my husband’s five girl cousins). The initial plan was to take Richard Wright’s private jet, but due to unforeseen circumstances I had to catch the bus (real-life translation: the initial plan was to take… Read more »
I was 21 when I first encountered Carrie Bradshaw, and, as a middle-class girl from Maine, it took me some time to get used to her designer shoe habit. I had never heard of Manolo Blahnik or Christian Louboutin, and I had certainly never heard of regular people spending $400 on footwear. The fact that… Read more »
When you are a writer and you live in New York, you sometimes take odd jobs in order to earn a living. I pay my bills by walking in the footsteps of a fellow (albeit fictional) New York writer, Miss Carrie Bradshaw. I am a Sex and the City tour guide. My workday starts on the… Read more »
