The Upper East Side holds a very special place in my heart.
I spent a great deal of my youth roaming her streets, trying to get to know her.
You see, the thing about Manhattan is that each neighborhood not only has it's own zip code, it has its own dress code, language, and manners.
The Upper East Side is no different.
The small boutiques and eateries. The feel of living in a small town in this huge city. The sense of community in a city that never sleeps.
The Brownstones, the apartment buildings with their gorgeous lobbies, with their picture perfect doormen at the ready. The smell of Park Avenue. The view of Central Park. The patina. The relative quiet in all of the madness.
If the UES was a person, it would a beautifully dressed woman. One who starts her morning by drinking tea, and by 4, is shaking herself a martini, in heeled marabou slippers.
A woman who is tasteful, and well curated. She is worldly. She speaks just enough French. All of her outfits are put together with thought. She isn't just the New Yorker that wears black, she likes herself a bit of pink, a pop of color.
When she talks, she doesn't mince words.
When she curses, she does so with authority.
She's a mix of pure class and hedonism.
She wears silk nightgowns, and sleeps on imported Italian sheets.
That is the Upper East Side.
She's the type of woman who will wow you with her knowledge, as she slowly seduces you by unbuttoning her shirt.
She is simply stunning, a show stopper.
Eloquent and complicated.
A woman who places her napkin on her lap, and while looking you in the eye, plays footsie under the table. One who puts on lipstick, secretly hoping to have it smeared off.
A woman who wears a designer dress with thigh high stockings and the sexiest lingerie underneath.
Someone whom, just when you think you know her, realize, you aren't quite sure if you know her at all.
The conviction she exudes.
The history, the age, the sensuality, the depth, the construction.
Hushed and Thunderous.
That's her, the Upper East Side.
I love her, and always will.
Xoxo,
C.
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