What a wondrous night. I can't imagine living the ultimate fantasy of what New York is all about to a greater degree. A beautiful evening, a gorgeous scene, a fab event... even I felt pretty, cool cats!My college pal Hester, whom I just
reunited with two weeks ago after some 20 years, returned to the city with hubby Ray for an art gallery opening by Canadian photog Santillo, whom Hester knows.The evening began with dinner at buzz-worthy Standard Grill (an architectural triumph,
with the Standard Hotel seemingly balanced in the air above) in the Meatpacking District—which has become Manhattan's hottest go-to nabe over the past year, as industrial spaces have been supplanted by high-end retailers, million-dollar apartments and destination eateries. I'm not always a fan of overt gentrification, but in this case, I have nothing but the utmost admiration—and mind you, a good part of its appeal is the opening of the High Line, a new oasis in the city.
Following a delish din with Ray and Hester, seated in a semi-circle booth facing the rhythm of the scene outside, it was off to the gallery blocks away on 14th Street, at P.J.S. Exhibitions. Santillo has issued a number of books featuring his sensual and erotic works. The exhibit this night: "Risque, A Series of Erotic Photographs."
Santillo was interviewed for a local TV show by... uh, never quite got the name, and in fact, even in the moment, I couldn't quite decide if she's a she or a really well-done drag queen. I suspect the latter.
And how could I then resist a pow-wow with said personality... and her pal, whom I am more convinced is a woman.
And finally... Hester and meese... yes, she's absolutely 100% female.
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