Wannabe

Tennis
I really do want to be writing more frequently. It's just hard when all my thoughts seem to take place while I'm peripatetic.

Last night I went to the U.S. Open with/thanks to Ning, who had some amazing tickets. Well, the seats were amazing - we were sitting in a box in the second tier above the courts. From our vantage, we could make out the grimaces or fist pumps of the players. Federer, Lopez, Chakvedatze, and Paczek.

Too snotty to look up the women's names, so I hope I'm spelling them right.

Sitting in the box with all the other entitled box-sitters, it struck me how the best part of sitting in such a box is the petty scoping out of the people adjacent. A beautiful/hot Korean mom and her three petulant kids sat to the right. Substantially twinkly diamonds glittered on ring fingers. Whether at the Parisian opera or Arthur Ashe, sideward glances are de rigueur.

Never let yourself get too committed to underdogs.

Shopping
In shopping news, I took a second visit to the Barneys sale, where things were marked down with some ferocity. 75% off the lowest marked price!

I'm very satisfied with my tactics this season. A visit one week into the sale to be able to get some special things. And then a wrap-up visit in the final week, to get some not-at-all special and very special things. Like a Vena Cava tweed jacket marked down from $675 to $90. I made the woman standing in front of me hold it up so I could take a cameraphone picture to send to my mom. Her ultimate judgment was "I can't really see it. But if you like it, you're going to buy it".

I've begun to appreciate a bit more the metricious art behind putting together an 'ensemble'. It used to be that I was perplexed when Kristy from The Babysitters Club was called tomboyish for always wearing a t-shirt and jeans. "What else would you wear?" I went to the Barneys sale once in those days. I must have been thirteen and begged my mom to let me go. In the end, I bought some terribly overpriced house label sweaters that didn't fit me right. You live and you learn...

Veronica and I discussed this a bit as we reflected on those girls who do take 'hours in the bathroom'. What a terrible allure! You can tell.