Hey just bathroom selfie-ing at The Smith

Last night I was packing up to fly back home (and was upgraded AGAIN on the way back, btw, which either means that I am a freaking genius capable of hacking the algorithm, on the receiving end of some bizarrely coincidental good karma, or Beyonce), when I realized that I haven’t really explained what I was doing in New York.

Short story: I was there to meet with various editors – Real Simple; Good Housekeeping; HGTV; Martha Stewart Living; etc – to show them Clorox’s new products (which are REALLY exciting, if you, like me, get all fluttery about the prospect of ridding your household of All The Gross and Bacteria-ish Things). Meetings like these – if you’re interested in marketing factoids – are technically called “desksides”: they’re when brand representatives meet with various press outlets to tell them what they’re up to lately, and then the press outlets can decide whether the products might be interesting to their readers, or perhaps make sense for inclusion in any upcoming stories.

Why was I there, not really being an expert on things like the chemical properties of various forms of cleaning agents (although I now kiiiiind of am, just saying)? I will tell you. Not right now, of course: I rawther enjoy a smidgen of suspense.

While I keep you on tenterhooks, breathlessly awaiting news of bleach and bleach-related innovations, I need to tell you about all the things I did in New York, but mostly need to tell you about the things I wore and ate. My usual approach to packing for a trip is to throw a whole bunch of pieces of clothing that I like into a bag and figure that once I arrive I’ll be able to do…something…with them, but Francesca forced me to actually conceive of distinct outfits for each day (all built around the same bag and pair of boots, so as to lighten the load), and it was a game-changer. Beyond the fact that I brought about 1/3 of the clothing I would ordinarily bring, it made my mornings so much more efficient: I woke up, brushed my teeth, drank 2.5 cups of my dad’s extremely delicious French press, put on The Designated Outfit, and walked out the door.

And every single day, I basically felt like elegance personified. I mean, who wears an all-white outfit in the New York City slush-snow?!

ali Wong glasses from barton perriera

ME. (Impractical, obbbbbviously, but I actually felt like I was glowing while walking down the street.)

jordan reid at one world trade center with Clorox

Some Places I Went:

  • The new(ish) Time building way down by the World Trade Center (pictured above), which is spectacularly beautiful and has the most incredible market right inside it, including things like a fishmonger and artisanal soaps. It’s wonderful. It also has – and I mean this literally – the most intense security system I’ve ever encountered in a building. There are layers.
  • Sugarfish. Twice. The first time with Erin, who doesn’t eat fish – and who is bald now, FYI; you should read her post about her decision to get a major chop –  but who said she was happy to join me because sushi restaurants always have vegetarian options. Sugarfish’s vegetarian options are edamame, a cucumber roll, and…oh. That’s it. Ooooops. #sorryerin.
  • The Smith, an extremely cool restaurant that I probably should have heard of, save for that my familiarity with cool New York City restaurants is stuck in 2008. I had the lobster roll, because I felt like ordering avocado toast would just be too blogger-y of a decision for anyone, including myself, to tolerate. (Also what’s up with the communal bathroom situation pictured in the shot at the very top of this post? I do not want to pee or check my teeth for green things next to a man. Ever.)

review of da dong in midtown NYC

  • Da Dong, a brand-new and extreeeemely fancy Chinese restaurant in Midtown helmed by one of China’s most famous chefs, with the goal of hanging with my mom’s friend Julie (who’s the head bartender there). I had orange wine, which is what it sounds like: wine steeped with orange rinds. (It tastes kind of like…beer. Which isn’t bad at all, just…odd.) I also ate little cherry tomatoes that looked like they’d been candied and had been stuffed with mushrooms (pictured above) and various other things that I’ve never even conceived of. Not all of the food was exactly my thing, but it was also like nothing else I’ve ever tasted, which is seriously saying something.
  • The Wing, a women-only (and members-only; apparently getting in is quite the task) workspace/club that with pink velvet furniture and a bar and bathrooms stocked with Glossier products and gorgeous showers and shelves full of books by female authors. Even the toilet begs to be instagrammed. It is a little annoying in its self-aware perfection, but somehow I also desperately want to be a member. Such are the paradoxes of life. (You can see pics on my Instagram.)

Oh so many more things to come re: this trip, including a product that I cannot believe didn’t exist before and now does, and that you will DIE over. (See?! Tenterhooks.)

Happy Monday!

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