Sunday, October 4, 2009

On Pins and Needles

I'm sure tourists who walk on the uneven brick sidewalks around Boston Common think it's quaint.

But me in a pair of 3 inch red Manolos?

Not so much.
(also wearing a grey shift dress, nipped at the waist with a patent leather belt, short, 3/4 sleeve black jacket and of course...my black Chanel Timeless Clutch. Jewelry: thick black bangle and a fab long necklace with black, white and crystal beads.)

Don't trip, I keep telling myself. Don't trip.

As I casually (ok, really just tried hard not to trip) walked along the outskirts of Boston Common I had to laugh.

I haven't been to Boston in awhile and even though I took the wrong exit off the highway I still found my way to the Back Bay part of the city. I swear my car knows how to get there even without a GPS lady yelling at me.

No time to be lost now, I have a fabulous event to get to. In one piece.

I was about to come thisclose to history.

A fashion event in honor of the first female Secretary of State, Madeleine Albright, who just wrote a book called "Read My Pins: Stories from a Diplomat's Jewelry Box".

I know, I know. You probably don't associate fashion with a government official...but throughout her career as the US Ambassador to the United Nations and then on to her post as Secretary of State Madeleine Albright made quite the fashion statement.

To let those around her know what she was thinking, what kind of mood she was in or what was going on in the world....she wore a pin. When she spoke to the Iraqi delegation she wore a snake pin (Saddam Hussein had a poem commissioned to run in the Iraq newspaper and in it she was called a "serpent"). So she let everyone know she could take it. And give it right back...in the form of a small fashion statement with BIG meaning.

I got to the store, St John's Boutitque on Boylston Street, with five minutes to spare.

I saw my friend Kristen right when I walked in. The PR company she works for was responsible for this once in a lifetime event.

Big hugs, compliments all around and then two amazing surprises. A copy of Madame Secretary's book and inside a generous gift card to the store.

The boutique was filled to capacity, everyone waiting to hear Madame Secretary tell us about her fashion statements, her pins.

And she didn't disappoint.

Who knew she was so funny? She had us laughing right away telling us about people we only see on the news. Heads of State who acted more like children than grown men. I loved every minute.

After answering questions Madame Secretary was kind enough to stay and sign books.

For all of us.

It was a long line.

A testament to her popularity.

For me, the line meant I could network. I had my business cards (thank you Annabel!) and as I talked I gave them out.

The reporter in me is automatically drawn to meet new people, the freelance writer in me is excited about my blog and wants to tell everyone about it...urge them to read it. (Ok...and then there's the fashionista in me who is dying to try on the ah-mazing clothes surrouding me. Fabulous colors: rich blues, hot pinks and perfect plums. )

Kristen was fabulous and introduced me to those I didn't meet myself.

I spoke to the manager of St. John's who suggested I come by the store for lunch. Such a gracious offer!

I met a woman who's handbag I couldn't stop staring at. Is it a Ferragamo? A Nancy Gonzalez?

None of the above. She bought it at a leather store in Beacon Hill years ago. And it turns out, she loved my handbag too! Funny how that happens. You're trying to be secretive and look at the bags others are carrying and they're doing the same thing.

After leaving the store, I walked through the Boston Public Garden. (Much better on the Manolos. No bricks).

This has always been one of my favorite parts of the city. So peaceful, so calm.

Massive change when I get back in the car and make my way out of the city of course. Honking horns, irritated drivers, lots and lots of brake lights in front of me.

So I took a different way and I played tourist in my own city.

I drove down Newbury Street checking out Chanel and Valentino. Looking at the new stores that have taken up shop on the famed street.

When I finally turned around to leave I was sitting in traffic.

I looked up at a storefront on Tremont Street and saw a sign.

"Psychic"

I smiled.

Maybe a few months ago I would have needed some direction.

A helping hand to give me an idea of where I should go. Who I should be.

But now?

I knew my way.

I didn't feel lost anymore.

I was back.

And it felt fabulous.