The Find

2nd June, 2014
TheFind1

It was one of those too-full days where you’re already behind schedule before getting out of bed. I’d been uptown since sunrise, helping Zach make early-morning design decisions on a new restaurant he’s building in the east 50’s, settling lingering structural questions before construction workers strolled in to begin the day’s assignments.

By 9am we were in an even further-uptown gallery space, conducting installation on an art event we’d designed for that evening and were in the final throws of producing ~ directing furniture deliveries and art handlers, trying to make a vast concrete gallery space feel like the sun-bleached beaches of Montauk for 100 of the city’s top art investors. I was single-handedly assembling picnic benches and helping build teepees, arranging flowers, and spray-painting designs onto t-shirts, to be worn in a few hours by surfer girl cater waiters. Constant, kinetic, creative motion. TheFind2And then it was late afternoon, and I hadn’t yet stopped moving. I’d made my way from East 85th down to Chinatown, in search of bamboo skewers for a bite-size salad we were serving that night at the art party. Just as I finally found what I’d been hoping for in the basement of Pearl River Mart, a mind fog of unsteady delirium suddenly swept over me. It was 4pm; I was dizzy, exhausted, starving. I hadn’t taken a moment to eat all day. Fighting fainting, I hurriedly paid for 400 jumbo toothpicks and rushed back up to street level, crazy-eyed in need of food. I remembered Smile To Go was just a few blocks away, and eagerly ordered a trio of salads from their walk-up glass counter. Hot, healthy, herculean mounds of kale, quinoa, and sugar snap peas. Heaven.

I found a seat in the window and slurped down half a glass of lemonade in one gulp. Ravenous and tired, I shoveled a single spoonful of quinoa, swallowing without chewing. I looked out the window, concealing or quelling indigestion. That’s when I saw her.TheFind3The coolest girl dashed past me. We were separated by a pane of glass, as if she were an exotic zoo animal and I the heaving tourist who’d paid to catch a glimpse of her. She wore flat sandals, no makeup, oversized boyfriend jeans, and a kite of a white top that shot out from her sides as she rushed past my window, revealing peek-a-boo glimpses of a tanned back. She looked effortless and comfortable, breezily chic despite the humidity and heat. The lunch I’d nosedived into could suddenly wait. I folded close the paper lid on my salad box and stuffed it deep into my handbag, rushing out the door in the same quick movement. I followed that stylish specter down the street and into a fancy Soho store, where I feigned interest in the clothes while circling closer to where she sat, trying on shoes. I attempted nonchalance as I moseyed up to her side and finally, shyly interrupted her shopping. Where did she get that incredible top, I asked, expecting Isabel Marant or perhaps Acne in reply. H+M, she confessed.

Like a lightning bolt, I was back out the door. Within minutes, I’d bought two of copies of her top from the H+M on Broadway, and by the next day my sister had too. It’s the find of the summer! The unofficial uniform. As perfect over a bikini as it is under a suit, I’ve worn it nearly nonstop ever since. Unsurprisingly, everywhere I go, strange girls sidle up to me, shyly and sweetly asking where they can get one too. I can relate to their curiosity so I’m happy to share the secret. Now, back to that salad still buried at the bottom of my bag…

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TheGlamourai is a webzine written by New York-based stylist Kelly Framel. Part fashion blog, part glossy mag, part fantasy travel portal, it's your ultimate online destination for stylish daydreams. Tune in for inspirational editorials, beauty tutorials, outfit ideas, DIYs, jet-set travel tips and more!
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