Shirt: Jason Wu (from a few seasons ago, keep meaning to get this version here); Skirt: St. John; Shoes: Steve Madden; Bag: Chanel; Sunglasses: Elizabeth & James
Grand Central has these amazing walkways that criss cross back and forth running the width of the expansive windows flanking both sides of the main concourse. As the day unfolds, with morning light peeking through and eventually splashing onto the floor down below, you can occasionally see someone walk across — usually in a hurry — from one side to the other. I’m not sure who has access to those walkways. I can only imagine it’s a very important person, rushing to fix a very important detail to the very important train schedule of the day. Or perhaps they’re just a very savvy New Yorker taking a shortcut we don’t know about? Either way, I always find this fascinating. Down below, we’re caught in the chaotic rush of morning traffic, unrelenting schedules and the ticking of a grand clock. And high above, there’s a quiet escape route, untouched by the madness. Unruffled by the flurry. Unaffected by time.
I like to imagine that someday, I’ll eventually get to sit up there to watch the morning spill over. And then I also like to imagine that there’s someone down below, looking up at me and wondering, just what I’m doing up there.