Amazing Glitz
I am sitting in Balthazar, one of New York City’s famed cafés, immortalized by the fab four on Sex and the City and purveyor of cappuccinos and Eggs Benedict to the well-heeled fashion gurus of SOHO before they head off for their designer days. It is the Monday following New York City’s fall fashion week (which, incidentally, showcases the styles for the coming spring, not fall), and Balthazar is buzzing with chatter, everyone with their copy of WWD (Women’s Wear Daily)—except for me, that is. I am listening in as the man next to me speaks on his cell phone in French, then Italian, then in English and watching as women in outfits I only fantasize about wearing sip their coffees and read the paper.
It’s also the eve of the sixth anniversary of September 11th. I’m not sure I have much of a message for religious extremists—unless this survivors’ reflection (and that is not a typo—I mean that in a collective sense) counts as a sort of pacifist, tangential kind of resistance.

