Ok, Weinstein Gallery does not seem the place to be looking downward, and indeed, I enjoyed the opening of the Elliott Erwitt exhibit full on (fabulous and highly recommended). The Weinstein also draws an arty, well-dressed crowd, so of course I had ulterior motives. To be honest though I was intimidated-- creative people standing around in knots talking with other creative people. I mean, sartorial expression is a birthright, it's assumed in this demographic, right? And fawning over one or two individuals -- euuuuw gauche. And that's not even taking into account that I was at a photography exhibit in the company of a bunch of photographers with my Canon A570 with 4X optical zoom and -10X skillz. Shit. Well I took one for the project and for you dear reader. How could I not? Look at those rich rich boots on top there. Like butta. And it was sort of nifty that the authors of this boots-n-jeans story were walking around together.
Pants, I mean woman below, had this somehow Tyrolean feeling. I guess it's the tabs on the hem. She got them in New York last year. The gorgeous shoes are old old.
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