 |
|
|
 |
Looking
out at Third Avenue and PJ Clarke's from 56th Street. 8:00 PM.
|
And
it rained cats and dogs. I left a new leather
glove (a gift) in a cab when I took it off to get my cash out
of my pocket for the fare, and promptly forgot to put it back
on before I got out of the car. I do this with gloves and umbrellas.
The umbrellas part I don’t mind because I’ve got a million
of them, passed out as they are every now and then at benefits. You
can also pick them up in a downpour in almost any news store or a
Duane Reade or a Rite Aid. Five bucks for the little fold up ones.
And only five bucks for a good sized one on a street corner.
But gloves are another matter. You need good (durable) ones in wintertime
in the City. You can always get a decent pair for ten bucks on a
street corner (along with a scarf, cap, etc.). But a really nice
pair from Saks or Bergdorf’s or Bloomingdales, Brooks or Barney’s
can set you back sixty, eighty, hundred-twenty or, I’m sure,
a lot more. Those are the gifts. Gone but not forgotten.
This is party week in New York. Not charity parties, although
there are those too. This is the week when the companies have their
office parties which vary from simple cocktails at the boss’ apartment
or office to dinners (banquet-types) to parties at restaurants that
can run late into the night and always result in some one or half
dozen getting shloshed in one regrettable way or another.
Then there are the strictly social parties, private in apartments
and townhouses. You can often tell where there’s a party by
the cluster of shiny black limousines idling, double-parked, bumper
to bumper. Not a few get themselves a car to take them around on
these nights.
Many of these parties are annual affairs for forty, sixty, a hundred
and fifty passing through for drinks and canapes served by waiters
and waitresses in black tie. Holiday parties are really just cocktail
parties but there’s something about the time of year and the
festive aspect that causes people to chill a bit and just have a
pleasant time. Plus people are in a good mood, or more willing to
pretend to be.
This is where people see old friends whom they haven’t
seen since summer (or the week before). And won’t see again,
technically speaking, until next year, unless they’re going
to Palm Beach, Aspen, Nevis, St. Bart’s (which is spelled St.
Barth’s in the more fashionable rags). Or unless they’re
going to the same cocktail parties. There are a lot of those. Amongst
the more socially inclined crowd which inhabits this vast tract of
very expensive Manhattan real estate, people often see each other
two, three, even four times a night, from Monday through Thursday.
Then comes Friday and it’s off to the holiday destinations
that are so popular with this (or these) sets. |
|
|
|
|
