Three Friday nights.
On Wednesday night (our first Friday night of the holiday weekend) CCC, LSP, SW, and I snuck cupcakes into the Ace Hotel’s library bar, and then we got lost in Siberia (at a club which bore more than a passing resemblance to what I imagine would be Tony Manero’s vomit), and then we did the Twist and joined a conga line at the Bowery Electric, and then he dipped and dropped me on said dance floor, and then we got in a street fight, and then I’m pretty sure I proposed marriage.
Like I said, it was a Wednesday.
On the real Friday (after our second Friday night) we awoke from a starch- and sugar-induced slumber at the predawn hour of seven o’clock, and then we consumed more starch and sugar, and then we booked it to the Paramus mall, and then four hours later this happened:
I think I’ll wear the gold ones tonight. Both are by (who else?) J. Crew.
A tragic tale: neither shoe is available online any longer. But you can still Be Like Cary and peruse the Crew’s holiday collection here.
I hope tonight bears more than a slight resemblance to Wednesday. Considering that it’s only quarter to four, and I’m already drinking prosecco by myself, I don’t think anyone will be disappointed.
Happy end-of-Thanksgiving, y’all. Now GO FORTH, and get weird.
