Disclaimer: This has nothing to do with fashion or beauty, but in the same way that I am a little all over the place, figured my blog may as well follow suit. To not somehow commemorate the 10th Anniversary of September 11th feels weird to me, even if doing so on my girly blog with a pink logo, rounded fonts and images of lipglosses and flare leg denim everywhere is an odd place for it. As I have said before, I work with what I’ve got.
On September 11, 2001 I was twenty-two years old, bright eyed, super excited to be living on my own in New York City. I had landed a highly coveted job at American Express, an amazing apartment on the 28th floor with views as far downtown as the eye could see, my entire post-Penn life in front of me, unscripted.
How vividly I recall that morning is part of why it is so hard to believe ten years has gone by. But I guess that is how it goes with days where your life forever changes unexpectedly. I can remember the conversations I had with my dad the day he passed away, and, on a happier note, the details of the night I met my husband.
I got dressed up in my “AmEx” best- grey capri trousers, a plum BCBG mohair knit sleeveless turtleneck , and Donald J. Pliner kitten heels. Always punctual, I hopped on the N/R around 8:30am, hoping to make it to the World Trade Center stop by 8:45 so I could pop into an eyeglass store in the downstairs mall and pick out new frames before walking over to my cubicle in the World Financial Center.