CHAPTER THIRTEEN
1999- Like Civilians?
Mundo gave me $1,500- I counted it the second he left. That was more than enough to make my high-end street style dreams a reality.
The party wasn’t until next Friday, so I had plenty of time for shopping and prep. I was envisioning a dress that was both slinky and sporty, part structured, part flowy.
I was planning on calling up one of my private clients- okay yeah, I admit that I did have some of my own side hustles that I kept hidden from the crew. I’d ask this private client to take care of my face. He was first assistant to a world-famous make-up artist and I knew if I broke him off a hunnid and he’d come out to my apartment the day of the party and perfectly execute a slick high fashion Tokyo runway interpretation of a society girl in a Monet painting. I'd tip him in coke if he wound up exceeding my expectations.
I could handle my hair myself. It was halfway down my back, but the sides were shaved. I was envisioning a modern take on the lead singer of Bow Wow Wow’s structural pompadour mohican with a Betty Boop kiss curl by the hairline, to bring it into the current decade. All I needed was to pick up a new jar of Control pomade from the Aveda store.
I spent a few brief moments trying to decide if it would be worth trying to come up with someone to spent the day with me when I went shopping. It could be nice to have a companion with me as I tried on dresses and boots and whatnot.
I ran through my lists of acquaintances and enemies:
Amel- That chick couldn’t go more than 2 hours without having to find a bathroom to go shoot up in.
Briana- Homegirl had a shoplifting problem. She’d have us in the clink in no time.
Claudine- Such a mooch. She’d be whining for me to buy her a pair of Gucci sunglasses and then pout like a fucking 2-year-old when I said no.
And so on, down the list.
My sister wasn’t an option either, that bitchy killjoy. First, she’d want to know where I got $1,500 in twenties and if we ever managed to clear that hurdle, she’d spend the rest of the day checking to see if my pupils were dilated or if there were track marks in the webbing between my fingers.
I wondered what it would be to have females in my life who were actual honest to god friends. Or a sister who didn’t want to scratch my eyes out.
Oh well.
Tuesday morning, I took the C train to Fulton Street in Manhattan. I wanted to hit Century 21- they always had the best shit if you were willing to dig through the racks.
Within minutes I hit a major score- a Vivienne Westwood Red Label dress in a delicate shade of pale pink. It was made out of stretch ribbed jersey cut on the bias and had spaghetti straps with a slightly draped neckline. A piece of fabric attached to the dress made it look like I had an expensive flannel shirt tied around my waist. I loved, loved, LOVED it. And at $250, it was massively on sale- marked down from $700. I tried it on and it fit perfectly. Century 21 never disappointed.
Next, I headed over to the Miu Miu boutique on Prince Street and found a cute pair of high heeled mary jane style strappy sandals in dark blush pink and a patent leather mini purse in a gorgeous luminescent pearl. Then a quick trip to West Broadway to hit the Aveda salon for the pomade, and a bottle of the Brilliant finishing gloss. I loved the way Aveda products smelled.
After that I found an upscale nail salon and splurged on a mani/pedi. I figured if, by Friday, they started looking ragged I could always go to my ‘round the way spot and get a refresh.
And then, my epic solo shopping day was done.
