Last week at this time I was boarding a train for New York City for a Broadway weekend with Mom. Though the first two days threatened rain, we somehow managed to avoid most of it – and for the major downpours (which weren’t even all that major) we happened to be in theaters or restaurants or bed. This NYC excursion is grand tradition that actually goes back even further than I initially recalled. I was reminded that we attended the original productions of ‘Lost in Yonkers’ (with Mercedes Ruehl and Kevin Spacey) and ‘Six Degrees of Separation’ ( with Stockard Channing) on a trip with Suzie and her Mom, so these theatrical escapades have been happening since the 80’s.
This time around we began with a little shopping along Fifth Avenue, peeking in at Rockefeller Center where Mom found some of her favorite chocolates, recounting how she had taken my brother and me to the skating rink on one visit, only to find that it was closed (after my brother had brought his skates.)
After a bit of window shopping, we had a lunch of sushi at Soba Nippon.
From there we tried out the fragrance counters at Saks and Bergdorf’s, where I briefly entertained the idea of my first Jo Malone bottle (I did not indulge).
We made our way up Madison, to the Tom Ford flagship store. I’ll admit to some well-reasoned trepidation upon entering the powerfully reserved yet stately storefront. This was, arguably, my favorite designer (even if I have to be able to afford one of his suits or even his shoes) – and by far my favorite perfumer. My collection of Private Blends occupies an entire shelf in my bathroom. It was like dropping off a coke-head in a swimming pool filled with the white stuff. A winding staircase led up to a room filled with fragrance. Mirrors multiplied the rich apothecary-like glass, and the scent of elegance and sophistication drifted through the air. I asked about the new ‘London’ Private Blend, but New York did not have it yet.
I walked down the hallway into another finely appointed room, where a silk dressing gown hung on a mannequin. I felt the sleeve with my fingers, and I may have sighed out loud a little. But it was nothing compared to the gasp I emitted upon seeing the shoe room. I can’t get into it now because the price points make me too sad. Despite that, and my ultimate act of resilience in not purchasing anything (hey, I can always hop a train and go back), there was something to be taken away from being around all that beauty.
We reluctantly left the world of Mr. Ford, and returned to get ready for dinner and our first show, ‘Mothers & Sons.’
