We haven't talked much about my style in clothes. Well, why would we? No one cares about that but me. And that's as it should be. We each have our own style, or as spoken by Terrance McNally's imagined Maria Callas in "Master Class," which I recently saw on Broadway and loved, "Get yourself a LOOK!"
My "look" isn't this.
However, on Friday, a workday, a day-before-all-mass-transit-was-shut-down-for-an-epic-hurricane day, I walked all over the Upper East Side (its
trottoirs more accustomed to the click-clack of Manolos and Louboutins), wearing these land boats (as a friend likes to refer to his hiking boots) to break them in. I'm planning to head to Ireland for some hiking (also not typically my style, but we should all be open to change, I'm telling myself a lot these days), and I didn't want to face blisters over there wearing brand new shoes.
But, geez, I hope I don't see anyone I know.
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