This weekend was a great one, with visits to the Beer Garden, dancing with friends, and yes, some much-needed relaxation
at the gym in the Equinox steam room.
I finally had the chance to check out the Hell’s Kitchen Flea Market I’d been wanting to explore and was thrilled with the selection. Maybe its the 10% hopeless romantic (the other 90% consists of cynical bitch) in me but I just love flea market stories. Whether its a purse aged 40 years, undoubtedly carried on many the date and fabulous night out in the sixties, or an antique mirror that once decorated someone’s bedroom, my favorite possessions have led lives considerably longer and more exciting than mine. Also, there’s something about flea market vendors–just the right amount of New York crazy for me (not crazy enough: commuters, too crazy: the homeless guy who urinated on my suede Stuart Weitzmans in the subway Saturday night).
[Vintage Pucci shoes and an array of bling–I love this photo, it makes me want to get ridiculously dressed up]
[Wouldn’t these old LIFE magazines look super-cool on a modern coffee table?]
[Awesome brooch collection. When I am a crazy old New Yorker lady yells at people on the bus and feeds birds in Central Park all day, I would like to own a huge collection of sparkly brooches]
[Crossbody bags in fun colors]
[A neat idea for the kitchen–glass bottles in an old beer/milk crate]
*Fun note on the word “tchotchkes”: when I was moving into my apartment, my roommate spotted a box approximately the size of my body simply labeled “Tchotckes and Things.” After a long discussion which involved defining a tchotchke “You know…little statuettes and ornaments and bookends and sparkly things,” Googling the proper spelling of tchotcke (I will admit it was actually spelled Chochkeys and Things on my box), and analysis of several of the items I had brought along, he simply shook his head and stated–“Girls and dudes are SO different.”