It's fashion week in NYC and a handful of the blogs I read and friends I have, are at glamorous after parties and backstage at tent events.Me, I went out last night and my evening started out semi-glamorous at a candlelit loungy sexy place, with velvet chairs, Sade in the background and red wine. Flash forward two hours later to above dive bar with Air Hockey- hell yes. And listen, me, myself I so much prefer a groovy bar with a Led Zeppelin jukebox, no pretension, and a fun group of friends over places like the Soho House, Pink Elephant or worse, some pump up the jam techno dance club.
And with air hockey, forget it. My mom and brother were on bowling leagues growing up, so as a little girl I spent a lot of time at the local bowling alley with a pocketful of quarters playing air hockey until I was about to turn blue. I could kick anyone's ass.
But, sadly, I got it served to me by this guy last night. And, as you can see by my look of concentration, I wasn't messin' around.
Man- I HATE losing in air hockey.
