One month anniversary NYC!

Our apartment has been singing our own renditions of award-winning Adele and the tragedy-stricken Whitney Houston throughout our failed watch party of the Grammies. Now that I’m incapacitated with Caitlin’s homemade popcorn and online delivery food, and a little petrified after Nicki Minaj’s offending exorcism bit that even Lady Gaga was rumored to say “Well, that’s weird,” I’m feeling exhausted. Marked by the purchase of another month-long subway card purchase, I’ve lived in New York City for an official month. While I cannot even imagine going back to living past experiences and a life I used to know, I’m starting to wonder where I’ll be in my future.

I met an Australian on the subway this weekend and chatted the world-traveled butler up about how he followed his husband to America, and also about his recommendation for my future home, Melbourne, Australia. Normal casual subway convos. Having an international affair and snorkeling the barrier reef IS on my bucket list and I think Australia, London, and of course New York City will be places I look for a job that begins after graduation…why not.

My fave, she was so pretty!

Designer Victoria Bartlett

My first New York City Fashion Week show was Saturday at Chelsea Piers on the Hudson River for the clothing line VPL by Victoria Bartlett. I escorted social media writers to the backstage craze where five different people would be hovering over a model with makeup brushes, hair product and flashing cameras while she sat there stone-faced. Elyse with ABPR was interviewing with the writers about our clients’ beauty products that were featured in the show. A glamorous looking man with perfect cheekbones said he liked all of my jewels as I was wearing a huge pearl necklace. I like to tell myself he was someone really important and I am someone who is aspiringly chic? After backstage was closed to media, I was able to watch the twenty-minute show that had the defining feature of underwear as outerwear. I kept on getting distracted with the awkward pelvic-thrusted walk of the models. While I saw many men in high heels carrying metallic purses, many skinny foreign models (“I am model.”), and the stylist herself, I’m not as star-struck as I thought I would be. What an incredible experience still!! But I left the show feeling very…hungry.

Chelsea Piers

Models in the show

Backstage chaos.

Stephanie came to stay with her New York Wall street intern beau, Eric, this weekend. After running into an embrace at Grand Central station we found a great restaurant that was featured this past week in New York Restaurant Week, called 9. After hours of salacious gossip and catching up, a bottle of wine, and exquisite food on Papa Americano, Stephanie's dad Herb, her boyfriend Eric and his roommate Drew stopped by (inconvienient timing, might I add, as our waiter had just began to give us a first round of drinks on the house).

We rendezvoused to a few other bars around Wall street before calling it a night.

The next day, Elyse, another girlfriend I had met in Spain, took the train into NYC to meet us for Spanish tapas and wine. Patatas braves, peach sangria, and tortilla Española later, Elyse had to meet her brother who goes to school here and Stephanie and I found ourselves arm and arm strolling Central Park (London’s Hyde Park flashbacks) and talking about our uncertain futures.

Saturday night it was a bit of a task to find someone to dominate the city with me. The only rallying I could do was with my roommates to the gym where we formed a circle and I taught them my memorized Envy Girls’ workouts (“Ok, now really focus on flexing here ladies!”) A very Jessica-type tattooed meat head came in mid workout, and so when I finally made it back to my apartment fourteen floors above our gym, I mustered up the courage to go down the elevator to Mr. Man and “look for my missing phone.”

“Have you seen my phone?” (Second time walking in--first time he was mid lift, and so when I left speechless my Baylor friends in the room next door gave me a quick pep talk)

“Um, no, no I haven’t...”

“Bummer…”

Jessica needs to work on her game. I buddied up to my lobby doorman, Gabriel, and asked for deets on the dude in the gym. “He only likes Asians, doesn’t look at anything else nice.”

“I could be Asian?”

“No, you really couldn’t.”

Fail….

Audrey and brought Gabriel a 4 am brownie after we finally went out based on our endorphin levels. It’s a good idea to have this informant on my side, and after late night binging on mac n cheese we didn't want it anyway.

Most exciting news of my internship week was the Millionaire Matchmaker coming into the ABPR showroom. I walked right past her, unnoticing. Another fail. For me and my future rich husband. Apparently Melissa Joan Hart from Sabrina the Teenage Witch was in the office the same day, and I'm sure I walked right past her too. I need to be more celeb aware...

I was able to sit in on an Erno Laszlo (expensive skincare line that had specific formulas designed for Marilyn Monroe, Audrey Hepburn, other icons) meeting with the UK publicity team as they set out their 2012 goals and discussed new product launches. I very much enjoyed this, not only becuase of their British accents, but it was exciting to hear about the plans for a grand opening party (classy classy, super glam) of an Erno Laszlo Institute in the States set for this year.

I finally made it to church--a necessary fuel to conquer my uncharacteristic apathetic mindset to several components of my life right now. Trinity Grace is a church with several locations around the city, and I was intrigued when someone said that an Australian pastor heads it all (OK THE SIGNS ARE EVERYWHERE!), and I figured what a great way to keep me awake on a Sunday morning, or in this case a Sunday evening as the 5pm service on the lower east side is more appropriate after sleeping off a 4am mac n cheese binge with my roommate (ew).

I have two more fashion week shows this week: Alice+Olivia and Levi's. Need my beauty sleep to keep up, or maybe some of those $250 Laszlo face creams.