Jet lag. I slept at 7.30 last evening and I am up at 4.30 in the
morning. Settled on the grey couch waiting for sunrise and watched dawn
slowly break over the bay in the distance. Lights slowly going off and
some coming on, framed silhouettes of people against the windows in their
homes and hotel rooms. The bells of the first cable cars and quiet
created by the lack of cars on the road revving up to take on the steep
roads on Market street and clattering on the cable car rails. The lights in
Macy's are warmly inviting and a jet is making its way across the early
morning sky. I can smell the coffee brewing in the dining lounge below.
Somewhere in the background I can hear the thrum of the heating systems
punctuated by wispy draughts of smoke coming out of the exhaust vents.
Yesterday was a day spent in downtown, mostly hunting for a pair of boots. I had packed in a tonne of dresses counting on finding the perfect pair of boots to wear them with. In the process I walked across a coupla other American retail institutions. Bloomingdales's, Nordstrom, Victoria's secret and of course Macy's. For sister retail junkies and mall rats from home I will attempt to a draw comparisons....Bloomingdales is like a 7 star Lifestyle. Or maybe it is what lifestyle in heaven is like. Macy's is Pantaloons, again of course amped up in size and style quotient. But SALEs and women across the world, as I discovered, are comfortingly familiar. Stuff thrown pell-mell, women on their knees rummaging through the lower racks, every girl sneakily checking what the others are holding on to and how much it is, every third person holding up one shoe and looking for pair before someone else gets to it, long queues at billing, harassed looking staff....hmmmm, I felt right at home :) After an exhausting 4 hour retail quest, I got my pair of calf length marc fisher black suede boots and wore them and pirouetted on the bed, which in my head seemed like an indulgence I could indulge only in America, after which I sited jet lag and passed out.
Yesterday was a day spent in downtown, mostly hunting for a pair of boots. I had packed in a tonne of dresses counting on finding the perfect pair of boots to wear them with. In the process I walked across a coupla other American retail institutions. Bloomingdales's, Nordstrom, Victoria's secret and of course Macy's. For sister retail junkies and mall rats from home I will attempt to a draw comparisons....Bloomingdales is like a 7 star Lifestyle. Or maybe it is what lifestyle in heaven is like. Macy's is Pantaloons, again of course amped up in size and style quotient. But SALEs and women across the world, as I discovered, are comfortingly familiar. Stuff thrown pell-mell, women on their knees rummaging through the lower racks, every girl sneakily checking what the others are holding on to and how much it is, every third person holding up one shoe and looking for pair before someone else gets to it, long queues at billing, harassed looking staff....hmmmm, I felt right at home :) After an exhausting 4 hour retail quest, I got my pair of calf length marc fisher black suede boots and wore them and pirouetted on the bed, which in my head seemed like an indulgence I could indulge only in America, after which I sited jet lag and passed out.
 |
| The view from my window at 4.30 a.m |
No comments:
Post a Comment