Style Bard started out at the Blogger Breakroom (shown above), hosted jointly by Fashion Indie and LookBook.com. In honor of V-Day and Fashion Week, the little ninth-story sanctuary overlooking 30th featured spa treatments, snacks, booze and hookups to the Internet. There were also drinks, mini cupcakes and Popchips--which are now my favorite hard-to-find treat (I'm pissed my store doesn't carry them). They're low-fat, low-cal baked snacks that taste just like chips if not better, with a great crunch and a tasty saltiness. Talk about falling in love.
At the "spa" I indulged in an amazing, painless eyebrow wax and then a manicure from Spa Merge, all while sipping on champagne. (Also available were spray tans, massages, makeup consultations and more!) With time left before I had to head back to the office, I decided to complete the luxury with a pedicure and foot massage at a nearby salon, treating myself. Then I hunted down a local Jamba Juice, which I'd been craving for days. On my way to work, I picked up chocolates for my co-workers, bringing the spirit of decadence and relaxation to everyone else. Showing some love doesn't start and stop with your SO!
You can learn more at the official wrap-up for more great photos and info. All in all, I managed to have a great day, despite the fact that I was very exhausted somehow from all of my running around (and maybe a sugar crash or two).
But the story doesn't end there. Later in the week, I was supposed to meet a friend and her boyfriend at Amsterdam Alehouse (such delicious fries and brews!), followed by a comedy improv musical, Broadway's Next Hit Musical. Of course I was a little worried about being the third wheel (single girl peril!), but thankfully we wound up meeting up with other friends as well. The show was great, I definitely laughed out loud (with the help of a two-drink minimum) and would be happy to go back. If you're unfamiliar with the premise, the audience puts song title suggestions into a bowl, the performers pick the title at random and have to perform it as the hit song from a musical. After about four of these skits, the audience determines which concept will be turned into a full Broadway production--in one hour, right in front of your eyes. It's fun! And everyone on stage--including the astounding pianist, who kept up with it all--rocked.
But wait, the night gets even better. Our crew wanted to do the traditional post-drinks roundup at Bubby's thanks to the ideal combination of a bar plus midnight brunch menu--and besides, it was one gal's birthday and they do have amazing pies that they will even serve with candles. So we walked in and immediately noted a motley crew at the large table next to us--why, it was the cast of American Idiot! Despite all of us being , but at least we were all Green Day fans, although that's almost requisite of those born in the 80s and rebellious teens in the 90s. But it gets better. After they helped us sing Happy Birthday to our pal, a nice older lady came over to say hello and let us know that it was also her son's birthday. Her son, Billie Joe. Yes, that Billie Joe Armstrong, who apparently was born on February 17. She let us know that we were the fourth birthday gang in there that night, and that her son was really miffed about having such a popular birthday and wished he was born on a less conspicuous date. And then she had him come over to say hello and Happy Birthday, which we echoed back in earnest. Y'all, I met Mr. Green Day (and Mommy Green Day). And sampled about five delicious pies. It was a magical, magical night.
The weekend has also been insanity, since I managed to wangle tickets to Couture Fashion Week to go see the previously mentioned Alzerina showing her gorgeous, meticulous, handmade, beaded jewelry. Although the entire event (held at the palatial Waldorf Astoria) was exciting and beautifully executed, you will just have to wait until later this week or next Sunday for the full scoop, when I have all my notes and pictures in order.
Hey, I just got home two hours ago and...it's been a long week. To say the least.