After an unexpected last-minute invite about a boutique I (embarassingly and regretfully) didn't know about, I decided to kick myself in the butt to get out of bed and roll out onto the thawing city streets. I threw on my faux-fur charcoal sweater with a bauble-bar inspired statement necklace to add a pop of interest to my monotone, all-black ensemble--foolproof for any New York event. Taking a mini adventure with my fashion partner-in-crime, Chase, we roamed past the ubiquitous, glaring billboards on Broadway and towards SoHo. As soon as we arrived Prince St. (which is highly understandable because of all the high-fashion stores fit for a prince), we came across a brilliantly lit boutique muffling some upbeat Kanye. Alas, INTERMIX!
Okay, first off, going to my first (re)opening in New York is a tad bit daunting. I feel as if I'm going to get egregious beams from socialites cropped out of Gossip Girl scenes in their mink coats as they hold their perfect chins up and strut away. Luckily, they didn't necessarily escape in digust but they were definitely wearing glamorous clothes I only see on Tumblr (you know exactly what I'm talking about!). Think gasp-inducing 3.1 Phillip Lim bags and heavenly fur coats you'd want to just reach out and grab, in spite of etiquette.
I admit, the first couple of minutes, I timidly cloaked myself behind a sea of priceless (oh, the irony) clothes dangling from racks while munching on catered Pistachio macaroons. Bubbling champagne was floating around amongst the chattering beauts of the reopening which I quickly envied. Damn my juvenile, less than 21-year old face.
As I slowly strolled around "effortlessly" attempting to pull off that naturally chic feel as if I visit these events on the daily, Chase vigorously tapped my shoulder. Apparently, Bryan Boy was a mere single-digit feet away from me in his oh-so typical shorts (only he would defy the weather with his killer style) and knee-high boots wrapped in a piercing blue fur wrap. After a few minutes of keeping my cool, I leaned in to snap an instagram pic of a showcase of Barbara Bui exclusive pieces (check it out on @cremedelachic) when all of a sudden a leather electric blue pouch and a shiny black bunny-eared iPhone case blurred the corner of my photo. As soon as I shrieked "What in the hell?" I realized it was none other than Bryan Boy himself leaving his things to take a picture that catalyzed a zillion snap happy bystanders who finally realized his unavoidable presence.
Despite the distraction, the main focus I was eyeing was the racks featuring luxe layers of black-and-white leather jackets, polyester panel dresses, and quilted shorts. You could say I was also in tactile heaven--I tend to have an instinctive habit of instantly feeling everything. Barbara Bui, Chloe, Iro...the list goes on of innovative designers whose clothes would tempt me to scrape what's left of my coin pouch simply to purchase a basic coal top. Don't even get me started on a pair of stark white Barbara Bui oxfords with scallop detailing and mesh peekaboo panels. The dainty rose gold necklaces lying neatly encased in a glass box made me drool like Charlie when making his daily rounds to Willy Wonka's store after school. It was without a doubt, a bittersweet moment.
If only I could own some of these items in the future without shedding a regretful tear of my financially-impaired status. One day...