After the Party is Over

So the champagne glasses have been sipped and re-filled, the backslapping and congratulations have been exhausted. The corporate chalice has been raised to glory and extravagance. The last night at Mercedes-Benz New York Fashion Week at Lincoln Center has ended. Millions of dollars have been spent, countless thousands of ‘wannabe’s’ have had their moment in the sun, strutting and posing for the media. Feeding this hungry and insatiable audience of ‘fashionistas’ is expensive, but the benefits are immense, for some.  Tonight in New York City, life, as we know it, goes on.

Columbus Circle Subway Station

17 thoughts on “After the Party is Over

  1. being far too much of a country bumpkin I had to look *dichotomy* up……glad I did as it was exactly the kinda word I would have used to describe your inspiring work. So there were have it – learnt and saw something new today, happy days ^-^

    • Happy days indeed. Between you and me I had to look it up too. It is a glorious word (thank you again Patti) and one I shall now be using a lot more. Thanks for the comment.

    • Thank you. Funnily enough, I took this photograph as I was making my way home after the last night of Fashion Week at the Lincoln Center. I doubt that the champagne glasses had even been collected let alone washed when I took it. It can be like living in two different worlds sometimes in New York. And the stunning thing is that neither seems to care about the others existence. Thanks for your comment.

  2. Probably a few empty souls at the show. A few people who are satisfied with life on the street not having to worry about wearing the right shoes. Such is life. I thought the photos you posted of the show models were very nicely done.

  3. Love this post, the essence of which is very topical for me at the moment! I wasn’t there but your writing sums it up very effectively I am sure! As ever I love your highlighting of the extremes we live around, there in NYC and here in London, indeed all around the world!

    • Thank you Peter. It is an epidemic of bubonic proportions. Rather like the plague doctors of the 14th century, strange men in badly fitting suits with strained pointy faces run around being pointless and offering false hope for the affected. I think they call themselves ‘Politicians’ these days.

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