Where else but in NYC could I find this crazy angel flitting around Greeley Square Park while playing her silent flute. Of course I had to take her picture. Not in the least bit put off, she actually came forward and kissed me on the cheek. And I, the incredulous New Yorker, could not decide whether to smile or run away quickly to wash my face. First, is this encounter with the tutu laden nymph in all her delicate regalia, somehow inspirational, though I need a minute or three to figure out why. I think it was her “life is short, do your own thing, who cares what you think, I am my own person spirit”.
Then, I was catapulted to another world. I was actually on my way uptown for a business meeting. With a few minutes to spare, I decided to visit the Town Shop, an upper West Side Lingerie institution whose very existence defines the meaning of a family owned Mom and Pop store. Opened in 1936 by Danny’s grandmother, this intimate boutique caters to his one goal: “that every woman walking on the planet should be wearing the right size bra” (I don’t think the downtown fairy queen has stopped by the shop lately). Nonetheless, here were two diverse realities paying homage to the meaning of the feminine mystique. The dichotomy was so quintessential New York.