nothing announces fashion week in new york more meretreciously than a surfeit of model sightings around town. especially in the subway.
i had one yesterday. most likely a second or third tier girl in a non primetime showcase of an up and coming parson design grad or she would have been chauffeured already to the big tent at bryant park. this as I jostled for a seat in the D train on my way to my tax preparer.
of course, her build was improbably tenuous and her legs just sprouted from under her boobs and jetted all the way down to this mortal earth.
although she wasn't made up yet, her tresses still wrapped up shabbily in a silk logo scarf, the rest of the jaded morning commuters in my car couldn't keep their eyes off of her, to say the least. models are new yorkers' hollywood stars.
maybe this is what they teach ravishing girls in the pulchritude academy. whenever you expect to be stuck in peoply places, be sure to lug along a weighty book. a shakespeare is best.
as the rest of us mortals were ogling her, our divinity was deep into a folger paperback edition of hamlet. something indeed smells rotten in the state of new york when the most beautiful creatures in the world assembled for this week long saturnalia are also the most literary.
my model, as expected, got off at 42nd-bryant park. as she gathered all her other stuff, an unopened one liter pellegrino bottle, a crisp burberry plaid trench, her head scarf unlaced and her luminous face was revealed to us. the puerto rican guy in front of her wearing a tatty sean john hoodie could not help himself but exclaimed "dang!"
indeed, "the chariest maid is prodigal enough if she unmask her beauty to the moon."
it was only when the train pushed on that all of us left realized our model left her hamlet behind. no one dared to scoop the book out of the still glowing chair.
I got off herald square and walked towards empire state building where my tax preparer holds office.
a navajo song counsels everyone to just "walk on a rainbow trail, walk on a trail of song, and all about you will be beauty. there is a way out of every dark mist, over a rainbow trail."
the predicted morning showers was now underway. I opened my umbrella only to notice two spokes were broken.
as I waddled on, a gash in the clouds allowed some light to pour through. light just enough to skim the crinkles in the now plumping water puddles along the sidewalks.