Notes From The Carlyle – June 2015

images-2 There I was on my way to Zitomer, the Cartier of drugstores, when I came upon a woman sobbing beneath the Carlyle’s canopy.  Naturally I couldn’t just go by, not after seeing a man take all of her shopping bags dumping them in the nearby gutter.  Hmm…now it was Father’s Day eve so I thought, was he just that unhappy with his tie and Brooks Brothers cardigan?  They looked like Connecticut personified in their well-pressed slacks and blazers, cordovan slip ons gracing their feet.

Takes one to know one.

We both watched him make a beeline to the Mark across the street to have a drink no doubt.  Not a bad idea, I thought, though she seemed to need one more than he did.

As she stood sniveling, I said, “Um, was he someone significant?”

She started to sob all over again. “No, just ma husbun.” All I can say is, that line inspired this essay.

“You know, it’s cocktail hour, ” I said, stretching it a bit since it was barely 3.  “Why don’t we step into Bemelmans for a little boost.  I could sure use one.”

She took out her compact to rid herself of that raccoon look men so often cause and said, “That’s a great ah dea, and thank you for the suggestion.”  I then helped gather her bundles still lolling on the street like they had just been mugged:  Michael Kors, Armani, Max Mara, Polo, Prada, Juicy Couture.  This woman was one serious shopper.

I loved how me, being a perfect stranger didn’t trouble her in the least, and I’m betting it’s due to my slim fit chinos, button-down and Gucci flats held together by Elmer’s Glue…but she didn’t know that.  Style attracts style, even if mine was more resale than retail.

We sat at the bar like two college coeds who hadn’t seen one another in a while.  There was no awkwardness, no hesitation, especially when she told the barmaid, just charge this to my room.  She was staying at the hotel.  Well I’ll be a monkey’s uncle, in nice pants.  I even forgave her that big hair sitting on her head like lettuce.

“So, I’m Susannah.”

“Lillian, but please, call me Lily.”

“If you don’t mind me asking Lily, what happened that he tossed your packages that way?”

“He’s angra I didn’t ba him anything while I was out.  But he’s so fussa.  Every ty-me I do, he hates it all.  Now in Dallas where we live, okay…it’s easa to bring it all back, but this is New York Cita.  It’s vera inconvenient.  But now he says, I don’t love-em.”

“So, let’s go buy him something..anything.  I’ll go with you.”

“No, to hell with him, treatin me that way and leavin me standin there, my balongings thrown on the street like unwanted ter-ash.  If you hadn’t come ba we’d all still be there.”

“Maybe not, and remember there are no accidents.  We were meant to meet.  After three peach daiquiris,  a drink with a kick to say the least, I convinced her to at least order online having it delivered to the hotel.   So in no time, Mr, you don’t love me, had a navy cotton pullover, an array of argyles, a shitload of CDs and a one snazzy Tom Ford bow tie.

We were rather drunk at this point, especially when she leaned over and whispered, “He likes bow tas..a lot…with nothin else on ta speak of.  It realla turns him on.”

Now there’s an image.

“What about you?”

“Not so much…want anotha drink?”

“Just a bow tie…nothing else?”

“Sometoms he’ll keep on his socks.”




About Susannah Bianchi

I'm just a girl who likes to write slightly on slant. I've had a career in fashion, dabbled in film and to be honest, I don't like talking about myself. Now my posts are another matter so I will let them speak for themselves. My eBooks, A New York Diary, Model Behavior: Friends For Life and Notes From A Working Cat can be found on Thanks.
This entry was posted in Fashion, humor, Love, men, money, New York City, sexual relationships, shopping, Women and men and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

23 Responses to Notes From The Carlyle – June 2015

  1. micklively says:

    Sounds like a low-budget porno. It raises an interesting point about states of undress though. Women can look great in, or partially in, lingerie, underwear, socks and stockings. The rules are different for men. The idea of being seen in just my socks horrifies me! There seems to be no logic to it: it just is, like a fundamental law of the universe. Where did that come from?


  2. skinnyuz2b says:

    Makes me appreciate my Pookie-Pie even more. No solo bow-tie, with or without socks. Your concern for others leads you into the most interesting situations with real ‘characters’.


  3. Yet another reason why I couldn’t be rich surfaces. Just the thought of a grown man throwing a hissy fit in the street because he didn’t get something at the store is one thing, but knowing that this same over-sized baby shows up naked in a bow tie and socks to “get it on” is gross.


  4. So they still have big hair in Dallas? Susannah, only you could find a sad rich lady and get a story out of her. And the socks thing. I’ve run into that myself. Sometimes I think they are either in a hurry or just plain lazy. Women are more concerned about the whole picture. Men think their weenie can carry it off.


  5. Patricia says:

    I hafta get out more.


  6. MIke says:

    Now if he was wearing that cute bowtie like the Chippendale boys you ladies might appreciate it more. 🙂


  7. Dang, I’ve missed your writing, Susannah. I should get your posts sent to my work email so I make sure to read them in a timely manner. 🙂 This is a great essay. It has the beginnings of a novel or a movie to it, somehow. Must be the way you tell it.
    Your #1 fan,


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