In an Empire State of Mind…
Sigh. No, this isn’t another ode to Jay Z (though clearly my tickets to his Staples Center show the other night got lost in the mail). I will give it to you, LA. You have the weather. You have the palm trees. You have the beach (though I typically prefer a pool, to be honest). But you just don’t have IT. No matter how hard you push that 73 and sunny in my face.
Been obsessing about all things NY for many years, I even tried to move there once upon a dream — landed the day before September 11 with all my big city plans packed up in a little suitcase. That I promptly unpacked, back in Montreal, three months later, after realizing that time really is of the essence. This was simply not my time.
And now that we have Little D in our world, imagining a life in a city that never sleeps…well, actually, that might work just fine for us these days. But still, we’d never have enough money, never have enough space, never have enough balls this late in life.
So we will continue to dream from afar – singing along with Hova and his pals, getting lost in “How to Make It In America” week after week, commenting on how it kicks Entourage’s LA butt. And, of course, dreaming of the fashion…for me AND Little D: think you love Bergdorfs? Meet Little BG.
LA: take note.