Friday, March 8, 2013

Julia in the subway

 At first, I guessed Julia was one of about a million tall, birch-like, exquisitely boned Russian models in NYC for Fashion Week.  Wrong.  She is a tall, birch-like, exquisitely boned Russian freelance stylist in NYC for Fashion Week.  Here's how ignorant and provincial I am: When she said she was staying for an extended period, I wondered, didn't she find NYC expensive?  Well no, she explained patiently and bilingually,  Moscow is actually more expensive than NYC.  Fresh off of a $10 Corona and a tablespoon of guac for dinner, my mind was blown for sure, and an image of Perkin's $3.99 Wake Up With Lard breakfast special served piping hot on a rocket launchpad sprang to mind.  But it faded because I was more in awe of Julia's tundra fairy perfection...
I'm pretty sure I've never seen such delicate coloring, such incredible bone structure, such porcelain skin in all my days of getting up in strangers' business.  I'm pretty sure I will get sent to the gulag Minnesota for saying that in print.
It also made me feel the tiniest bit less provincial that we headed in opposite directions... and moments later, crossed paths again, like Laurel and Hardy, having both gone the wrong way out of the subterranean world.

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