Wordless Wednesday. Now on Thursday. And with Words.

So, if I were you, Readerinka, I would be feeling royally ripped off just about now. Because I have the whole “NYC” thing as part of my blog and from the posts that I’ve been writing, I could be living absolutely anywhere. As long as it was well-padded, that is.

Is that fair to you? Don’t you deserve more?

It’s my fault. If I’d been carrying my camera around last week, I would have captured these “only in New York” moments and you would have seen photos of a man wearing an American-flag g-string and nothing else biking downtown. You would have seen the enormous vat of cranberries outside of the Today Show studios. You would have seen the look on Husbandrinka’s face when I said, “hey, wouldn’t it be fun if I quit my job to blog full-time?” But, alas, you missed all that, and you have no one but me to blame for it. I hope that you can live with myself.

But now, I’m turning over a new leaf.

Every day, I walk past Saks Fifth Avenue, which is like so deluxe, they practically don’t let me in.

I have a rocky relationship with the store. It’s the place where my mother took me to buy my very first bra and the sales lady visually violated me and said, “come back in a few years.” Seriously, that’s the kind of bitch that I can sort of admire. Works on commission, but is willing to forego it to get a snark in. So, you can see why the store holds a special place in my heart, right behind my breasts. Saks is the only store where not once, but twice, I got stuck in the changing room and the sales lady had to liberate me with the special key. Fortunately, their dressing rooms are roughly the size of my apartment, so I was pretty comfortable. Is this a bad place to mention that one of the times that I was stuck, I was stuck inside a dress that I couldn’t move past my Eli Manning-like shoulders? Because I’m pretty sure that the sales lady that walked in on the sight is still in recovery.

But the biggest joy I get from Saks is walking past their windows. Around Christmas, they are spectacular, and have snow flakes that light up and there is a velvet rope and people line up to look at the windows and even videotape the scenes. I like the Saks windows on all other days, though. Because they are outrageous.

Like in August, they had this:

Can you tell that the ruby slippers actually protrude from the window? Fancy, right?

And in early September they had this:

Now I don’t know a lot about men’s fashion, but I am certain that this is what they’re wearing in all the finest insane asylums. And don’t miss the “WANT IT” written across the window. I believe that’s called subliminal advertisement.

This week, they had the Dior display above. I thought it was so lovely, it looked like Catherine Deneuve from Belle de Jour is modeling in the window. Except I think she’s a whore in that movie. Which may be the ultimate in window shopping.

One year ago ...

• Untitled, For Now - 2010