The October wind whipped down midtown Manhattan. I paid my respects at Barney’s. Then, reverence at Saks Fifth Avenue; and by the afternoon I had scrutinized most of the price tags on 5th Av.
Explocity New York describes Chinatown as ‘a haven…for faux designer goods.’ Hey, I figured, if I cannot spend time with Monsieur Vuitton, I will enjoy the company of his cousin from the Orient. So, I took the subway to Chinatown.
The bling on my arm – for the remainder of my stay in the city and on my way to JFK – was a shiny Louis Vuitton Monogram Manhattan GM, extra crispy.
Other chicks stared jealously. I smirked, smugly. I was the It girl with the It bag.
The girl at the check-in desk looked at my bag. She smiled appreciatively and upgraded me to first class. The flight may not have taken off but I was already flying high.
And then she winked and drew my attention to her handbag – another fine luxury product from Canal Street.
You can’t fool everybody, I mused later. But, by then, I was sipping bubbly in a seat with legroom customised for a supermodel.