Saying I was excited to go to New York this weekend would be a grave understatement. I have been counting down the days, anxiously awaiting to break out my most elaborate sartorial combinations that usually lie dormant in my closet. A girl can only take so many stink-eyes on her walk to class. But, this weekend is different. This weekend, I am one of them. I am among the fashion greats, the trend-making citizens of NYC. It is just a city, but I want it to be my city.
Yesterday was spent scouring Broadway, ripping through sale racks and snacking at way too many restaurants. Today, we planned a quick trip to Brooklyn to meet up with family and dig through the Brooklyn Flea Market. Maybe this southern lady is a bit callow and naive when it comes to big-city exploring, but I could not get over myself. I was star struck with every step, my neck craned upward to catch glimpses of every fire escape and street sign.
To prepare for Brooklyn, a place that holds the namesake of my favorite book (A Tree Grows in Brooklyn), I found it suitable to break in my newly-purchased sequined pants. I really am like a moth and fluorescent lighting when it comes to sparkles.