Hey Arnold

There’s always that one thing about every city that makes your heart beat a little faster. For Thailand, it’s running around with too many friends after dark, looking for the best food you’ve ever tasted. In Hong Kong, it’s the Ming Dynasty-esque junks, bright red on black water. When I’m landing back home in Sydney around October or November, I can’t think of anything sweeter than the spray of pale purple Jacaranda trees blooming all over the city. And we don’t even need to discuss Paris.

New York, though, that’s a different story. You’re in overdrive before you make it to your hotel - not for your cab driver’s panicked braking, but the sheer height of the place, the traffic, Jimmy Fallon lip syncing Fancy on NY Taxi Cab TV, sunset over that skyline speeding into Manhattan over the Williamsburg Bridge. Then it’s midnight dinner at Miss Lilly’s, up all night writing back to Australian emails, and straight to work backstage at the crack of dawn. I’m cool with that if you are.

Then beneath all that, the subway is the literal heartbeat of the city, perhaps in collaboration with the city’s signature cabs. I, for one, was secretly teary when the city started replacing its Crown Victoria fleets with Prius’ and Escapes. As much as it was knuckle-breakingly terrifying skating up Madison Ave in one of those old boxes, they took a bit of century grit out of NYC – I used to love feeling like I was in Hey Arnold 90s limbo, particularly around the East Village and Alphabet City.

You might say that I’m selective with the model of cabs that make cameos in frame while I pretend to cross the street.

Meanwhile, I have a sneaking suspicion that this is the first time I’ve shared this skirt beyond Instagram, and I can’t explain why. It’s the perfect answer to the bulk, bunching, and backside discomfort that comes with your girl Friday leather skirt. Indeed, I’ve worn it so much since I impulse purchased within my last three hours in New York in July that I ran out of tops to wear it with (even after raiding Alex’s shirting), and had to step back and reconsider the meaning of life.

I jest.

But, in all seriousness, you and I both are glad that this Zimmermann situation turned up in time for my second day of NYFW shows. Failing that, I would have walked out of the Soho Grand in a sports bra. A pillowcase. Anything. Now I’ve gone and given myself ideas. Watch this space.

So the moral of this late Tuesday night, is that yellow cabs and leather pleats have my vote.

And on the topic of voting, I should probably find a better phrase than being ‘so excited’ or ‘so honoured’ or ‘totally flattered’ to be nominated for the ELLE Style Awards’ Blogger of the Year, but I am – excited, honoured, flattered and nominated. The awards ceremony is this time next month, so until then, should you be keen cast a vote my way, pass on the good message of skirts over pants, and win a few things along the way, then I would be doubly as excited, honoured and nominated.

I think.

It’s late.

I’m done here.

VOTE MARGARET FOR ELLE STYLE AWARDS BLOGGER OF THE YEAR

Chloé Drew Shoulder Bag

ZIMMERMANN Tempo Off the Shoulder Top

Alexander Wang Leather Laser Cut Pleat Skirt

Citizens of Humanity Corey Slouchy Jeans in Bourbon

Mode Collective Lace Up Point (on sale for $99 at the moment)

Dior Addict It-Line Liquid Eyeliner

shot by Vanessa Hong on Nikon D600 with 85mm lens outside the Soho Grand Hotel

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