After three days of back to back meetings from breakfast through to dinner in New York last week, I was ready for some downtime on Friday evening. (Because like an idiot, I had forgotten to schedule in any gaps in my 15hr a day schedule.) So, after my last meeting, I wandered up from Cafe Fallai on Lafayette, through SoHo, and along Broadway to the East Village to the salon of bridal couturier Angelo Lambrou for Jill’s 6pm fitting for her wedding dress.
I am SO excited for her wedding in Calistoga next April: Jill is one of my closest friends in New York, and I finally met M, her fiance last week over Italian in Chelsea before I went to Miami. (The night she met him I was actually staying with her after our building caught fire & I was homeless, but I couldn’t face being chirpy and going out that night. I was on the road for the rest of the year before I moved back to London, so we’ve never managed to be in the same city simultaneously where we could meet.)
Jill had already picked out her dress, so I was just coming along for the final fashion-y seal of approval before she plumped down the deposit. Which of course, I gave, because Angelo & Laura his number two are clearly wedding dress geniuses, and Jill looked ravishing in her chosen number. (Obviously I’m not giving anything else away here!)
And then we retired a street away to my old haunt La Palapa on St Marks, a block down from the apartment I shared with Laurent (best ever flatmate) a few years ago, and home to many previous margarita sessions. We started with our obligatory bucket of guac, and this frozen pomegranate margarita for me. Just the one, as I feared if I drank any more I would fall face down asleep in my plate of grilled cactus, beans & mushroom quesadillas.
Euf. I do miss my friends in New York.