People who know me will tell you stories of high energy, streamed together activities: art shows, dancing, walking tours, pub crawls, and road trips. In recent months I’ve played it low key; this weekend? Not so much.
Claudia and I went to the New York City Center to see Diana Ross perform. Smooth as syrup, her energy electric, a true, iconic songstress. The audience, a mirror filled with love. Five costume changes, each more glamorous and sparkly than the next.
Every song a tribute, a trigger to a moment in time, a disco dance down memory lane.
Jayne, Colleen, Jon Mark and I attend the NY Sailors’ Ball–a charity event on my calendar every year. It’s held at the Down Town Association, a 19th c. townhouse and clubhouse. I go for the music and the dancing, but every year the Commodore asks my plans for the sailing season.
Apparently, my age is catching up with me. I hardly drank but after dancing for 2 hours straight my body is screaming for mercy. I sleep in, Finn is more than happy to oblige. Later in the day, I have plans with Lulu for supper, so I slowly make my way to Soho where she is dying her hair, under Chester’s guidance. Last year I had a sapphire sheen and orchid stripes, and now Lulu is getting a unicorn color of her own.
We have dinner at Soccarat, a paella bar in Little Italy and order our meal in a sing-song fashion like a scene out of RENT.