This weekend, I was out and about a fair bit and managed to remember my camera every time I left the house, which is sort of amazing for me. And lucky, since something caught my eye practically every time I turned around.
I was in midtown Saturday afternoon, in the middle of a successful foraging expedition to my favorite jewelry supply places (vintage Czech and Japanese glass! pieces from old chandeliers! non-sterling metal charms that pass my rigorous anti-shlock test!) and weaving in and out of packs of slow-moving pre-Christmas tourists. At one point, I was contemplating yelling, "Hey! You in the Ugg boots! MOVE!," at which point the crowd would have parted and I could have done cartwheels for ten blocks. Then I glanced up and this reflection just stopped me in my tracks. Also kept me from cutting a bitch, so: double win.
Then yesterday morning, when I was walking to the subway to meet friends for brunch, I heard some loud Latin music coming from the northern end of Manhattan Ave.
As the procession got closer, I could see some people dancing in costumes, followed by the truck with giant speakers and a bunch of people wearing black. I'm assuming that the event was in conjunction with the feast day of Our Lady of Guadalupe, which was Friday. Please note that if you go to the page and gleefully click on 'email this saint,' you're just going to be given the option to send that website about the saint via email, not actually, you know... I was so intent on watching them that I didn't notice a rival procession coming up from the south until they were right next to me.
They seemed pretty intense and I thought there might be some kind of Guadalupe-off about to happen, but they just walked right up to the first group and then went around and joined them.
I loved these costumes. These guys were dancing like crazy the whole time.
After brunch, I hung out with friends and knit for a while, then went to an afternoon holiday party (mulled cider + rum = yes), then met up with Erin for dinner, then the two of us met up another friend and two of her friends for some wine and girl talk, the kind of really lovely, whirlwind day that is going to destroy my carefully cultivated reputation as a hermit of great shyness.
Several of those social engagements were in places that are on the rather-far-from-the-subway end of the spectrum, like Red Hook and the far edges of Greenpoint and deep into the West Village. The good thing about this, other than the exercise and reasonably fresh air, is getting to look at stuff, especially when I'm in neighborhoods I don't find myself in very often, especially especially when I get to walk through old industrial areas. I so have a crush on post-industrial landscapes and buildings; there's something about the lines and angles and colors that blows my skirt up in a way that more traditionally pretty stuff doesn't.
I love this color combination, that bright wheaty yellow against the clear, flat teal and heathery oatmeal-y concrete.