Zara coat, H&M jeans, Michele watch, Quay sunnies, Louis Vuitton bag
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Despite being an (amateuer) contemporary art enthusiast and 4th year NYC resident (not the medical kind, I practically failed anything science related), I had never visited the annual Armory Show until last weekend. We did a little window shopping in Soho first before heading to the middle of nowhere, aka 12th avenue, for this Big Apple version of art basel. I had also only recently lost my By Chloe virginity – I know, what kind of wannabe fashion blogger am I if I don’t eat instagram curated vegan food? Yet I somehow managed to eat Chloe 3x in this one weekend.
The show was awesome as expected but also ginormous. I literally couldn’t fit into my loafers the next morning because my feet were so swollen from walking around for hours. It didn’t help that Dan took a snail’s approach to observing the art. At one point, we got separated and I had gotten to the back of the first showroom while he was still barely 1/4th of the way through. Thanks dude.
It was also super interesting to see how our iPhones have changed the way we view art. We see everything through our pixelated screens now rather than with our bare eyes. In fact, the last photo on the left was a pool of water that was programmed with facial recognition and mirrored the audience’s face, but the artist had to tell everyone to put our phones away because they were covering our faces. Now that’s pretty dope and corrupted.
For Valentine’s Day, Dan and I treated ourselves to a couples massage package at the Guerlain Spa at the Waldorf Astoria. We arrived to the 19th floor of the illustrious hotel, where the elevators opened up to ornate gold wallpaper and elegant hanging crystals. One spa attendant stowed away our coats and bags while another treated us to hot tea and fresh juice. Shortly after, two masseuses took us to our private massage room where we were welcomed with a bottle of champagne and Godiva truffles. The whole experience basically made me feel like a real life Blair Waldorf.
We agreed on a Swedish massage, which I like to call the Goldilocks of massages: not too firm but not too gentle. After our 50 minutes of heaven, we were allowed 20 minutes to relax in our personal steam room and shower. I even got to spritz on some signature Guerlain perfume before leaving.
So was it worth the steep price tag (over $500 with tax and tip)? I would compare it to dining at a 3 Michelin Star restaurant. It’s great to experience that kind of luxury and over-the-top service once in a while and you’re extremely lucky if you can do it on a regular basis. But that doesn’t mean you can’t find a great massage in New York for a lot cheaper. Sure, that corner place offering $60 for 60 minute massages might not afford you chocolates, champagne and your own steam room, but hell, I say sneak in a box of Godivas, down a few glasses of champagne at dinner beforehand and jump into your own bathroom tub when you get home if you still want to experience a little bit of hedonism. Then take all that money you saved and spend it on a pair of Jimmy Choos ;)