Tag: fiance

A sweat shop in New York

Dragging Mr W into another clothing store, I laughed at the groan escaping his mouth. ‘Come on, I love this store.’ Bargain hunting in Soho, Manhattan was the game of the day. Strolling around was just as fun in the Winter sunshine. How could it not be? We were in my favourite place in the entire world, and Mr W had proposed just days earlier.

Bemused at his groans, I knew the next store would make him happy. I had no idea exactly how much. Walking into the store it became very clear it was closing down. I was a lover of the store myself and I was gobsmacked. Big banners were strewn around the place with big letters spelling ‘CLOSING DOWN SALE’. ‘EVERYTHING MUST GO’.

No. No. No!

And then Mr W’s face lit up.

The sale was incredible. T-shirts that normally cost $30+ were now $5. Hooded jumpers were $10 down from $50+. Hats, shoes. Bargains. Bargains. Bargains! Mr W was in his element. We left with two huge paper shopping bags full of goodies. I remember standing out on the sidewalk watching him glow in the aftermath of the shopping frenzy. It’s an image that lives happily in my memory.

He never spends money on himself. In fact, he’d rather stitch up a battered pair of jeans than buy himself new ones. He has boxers that are older than our relationship and even now, nearly 7 years later, he still has the clothes he bought that day in Soho. The funny thing is he will always try and get the best deals for himself and stretch the lifetime of a pair of socks and yet walking past a shoe store he’ll ask if I fancy a pair. It’s insane.

Back to New York. After his shopping spree, we both jumped in a cab with his purchases and headed back to our hotel. Later on that afternoon, we walked to W43rd and 12th Avenue and took a trip on one of the Circle Line boats around the island of Manhattan. As the light faded in the early evening, we saw the city lights come to life. I braved the decreasing temperatures and stood on the outside deck to get some photos. The Freedom tower/One World Trade Center glittering in the night sky. It was phenomenally beautiful. I kept turning to usher Mr W outside, but even with his arctic winter coat on, he stayed put.

I have viewed the island of Manhattan from the water half a dozen times and it never ceases to amaze me how happy one place can make me. After touring the island and passing under the Brooklyn Bridge, our boat turned, repeated its path and sailed north up the Hudson river. We glimpsed the Empire state building, lit up for the night, and docked, cold and excited for the evening ahead.

Due to December’s early sunsets, the boat had sailed at 4 o’clock which meant we were back on 12th Avenue by 6:30pm. More time left for us in the evening and therefore more opportunities to see places. We took a slow stroll to Times Square. It is about a 20 minute walk through midtown-west and reasonably quiet until you are right in the thick of it. Night was truly setting in and the chills that came with it were very real.

We meandered through the crowds until we came to the Swatch shop. Lighting up the sidewalk on Times Square amongst all the LED billboards is an incredible feat and this store had managed it. In stark contrast to the bright reds, blues, yellows and greens around it, this store was starkly bright white. The walls were made up of lightboxes. Overhead were exceptionally strong lamps. The floor was white and therefore exceptionally reflective. It shone like a beacon. I wouldn’t be surprised if all the moths of America called it their church.

Not a huge fan of browsing I spent some time checking out various watches before I saw Mr W pause at one particular stand. In his nonchalant way he said, ‘That’s nice’, and went to walk away. I pulled him back and said that I still hadn’t got him a Christmas present, what If I bought it? He said no, but our pausing at the stand had set off an alarm in a sales woman’s mind, and she rushed to our side. I told her I was interested in the watch and she went to get one for us to look at. When she returned she offered to fasten it to his wrist. He kept shaking his head until eventually I persuaded him to slip it on. I remember thinking, why does he always do this? It’s a gift, it’s something he likes, surely it can’t be a bad thing? Did he realise how hot this small, lightbox was? Let’s buy the watch and get out into the fresh, cool night.

Hallelujah, our purchase in its fancy box and bag, we stepped into the cacophony of sounds, lights and smells. The nighttime was upon us and it was time to head back to the hotel. In true fashion, we found it hard to get a cab and so walked the 6 blocks back slowly.

When we reached our room, I remember seeing Mr W removing his coat with his back turned to me. He was muttering about how hot he had been. Since the boat, his coat had been zipped up halfway against the Winter weather and he could finally remove it. The scene plays out in my mind frequently. He unzipped the coat and slipped it off his shoulders, over his arms, wrists and hands and slung it on the bed. I remember seeing his new mid-grey t-shirt from his happy shopping spree covering his broad shoulders. As he turned, his eyes connected with mine, before I burst out laughing. On his chest, starting at the collar, two dividing lines of colour were drawn down his body at an angle creating a large V. The inside of the V was a very light grey colour. Below and surrounding this was the mid-grey colour I had seen on his back. The poor bugger had melted inside his arctic coat. The sweat had changed every inch of the light grey shirt that was not exposed to air into the deeper grey.

After I stopped laughing, he started to say that he had felt hot walking around in his coat, and when we went into the Swatch shop it had only ramped up the heat inside his coat. The coat had elasticated cuffs and therefore when the sales woman had offered to help him put the watch on all he could do was point blank refuse. He said something like ‘I had a river of sweat on my wrist, no way could she touch me.’ I fell about laughing.

That night he had to dry the shirt on the radiator ready to pack for our flight home the next day. Even now, when he wears it or I wash it, I smile. It is a memory of when he was extremely warm and courteous that keeps me warm and smiley.

Engaging moments

A squirrel runs along the back of the bench we are sitting on. It is 10:30am, or thereabouts, on a Sunday morning, and we find a rare occasion to sit down in this busy city. We’re in Manhattan, we flew in yesterday afternoon and have so far hit the ground running. The planning for this trip started in February 2015, it is now December. Mr W, my boyfriend at the time, had succumbed to my pleas and allowed me to show him around my second home. New York City. 

We land with only a few hours of daylight left, dump our bags at our hotel and head out into the city. The plan for tonight is a wander around midtown, ending up at Rockefeller centre to see the tree. The big one. La pièce de résistance. Christmas has landed. We stroll up past Bryant Park, lit up by its Festive huts selling their wares, past the Public Library with its wreath wearing stone lions and pause slightly to glance upon the luxurious Saks display and there it is. 30,000 lights and the famous star. And there are thousands of people surrounding it. With the months of preparation behind me, I’d forgotten one key piece of information, tonight was the first Saturday since the tree had been lit. As we get closer to the crowd, my fight or flight kicks in and I have to walk away. Crowds really bother me. The feeling of being shimmied about or being squashed is too much. Mr W understands and we leave with a plan to come back another time, we say a brief ‘Hello’ to Radio City Music Hall and hit Times Square. 

The next morning is the big one. We wake early as the sun rises into bright and clear skies. The Empire State building awaits! One of the most iconic places on planet earth. With its art deco features, history in the making legacy and most amazing views this will be my 5th visit. Mr W doesn’t like heights but the nerves are blown away by the fierce winds up on the 86th floor. With its iconic criss cross metal fencing and viewfinders, it is undoubtedly the most recognisable scene in the city. Coming early has been a good choice, the crowds are thin enough you don’t feel rushed and there’s a slight haze as the sun rises over the East River and shines over the island. It feels as if you are watching the city wake up, allowing a slight lay in on this Sunday morning, and head out into the new day. As we emerge from the gilded lobby we realise we are early for our brunch booking. We take the time to head to Madison Square Park. It is warm enough to walk and the sun feels good. This is one of my favourite past-times in this city. We find a bench and watch the sunlight play with the dappled shade as the city’s residents run, stroll and walk their dogs by. I’m always caught by envy at this moment. Watching the world go by. Of how lucky they are to live here. I know this will be one of the few times we’ll sit still on our 5 day visit. As if they are aware of that fact, grey squirrels approach us, they climb up Mr W’s legs, awaiting a handful of food. One makes it onto the back of the bench. Mr W smiles as he sees me in my element, wild animals so close and friendly in my favourite place. I glance over at him as he looks around and nods ever so slightly. In a single move, he sweeps off of the seat and kneels in front of me. The moment transforms, the city fades, and if he asks me to marry him, I do not hear it. The blood pounds in my ears, the traffic falls silent, there is only us. I start crying as he smiles from his grounded position. There is much laughter and crying and disbelief as I finally remember to answer his question. My trembling hand accepts the beautiful diamond ring while my voice remains caught in my throat. And just like that, the day comes back into focus. The squirrels have abandoned us. People walk by. The taxi’s rumble by. 

I start my engaged life by calling out to two people passing by. My voice is not playing ball and I sound like a strangled banshee. They ask me to repeat myself. “We’ve just got engaged, will you take our picture?” Forever captured, is me shaking, blotchy faced on that bench. Amazing. 

Peeling ourselves from the bench, we head to brunch, steak and eggs for him, bellini for me. The shaking has not subsided and, besides telling the taxi driver, the world does not know what has happened. It carries on despite my world having changed forever.

Before leaving for our trip, several of my colleagues all but bet money on the engagement happening in New York. With exclamations of “Of course he will, it’s your favourite place in the entire world.” And despite my and his insistence that it wouldn’t be happening, they would not stop. It would seem I’d be returning to prove them right. After reflecting on that, we spoke about how he proposed. All was not as it seems, I had inadvertently ruined his initial proposal plans. It was to be under the Christmas tree the night before. But he is laughing. He says it does not matter, that the opportunity in the park was perfect for us. Both laughing, relaxing and drinking it all in. 

I often think of this moment in time. So much of our now married life is planned. Weekends. Social events. Holidays. Schedules are the order of every day. What our engagement reminds me to do is sit, stop and listen every now and again. It’s in those moments we find ourselves again. It is those times that everything around becomes white noise and we find our way back to everything truly important in our lives.