After getting all hopped up on frozen yogurt & coffee, I headed uptown to the Met for the first (official) item on my list. Yes, everyone had told me that the lines for the Alexander McQueen exhibit, Savage Beauty, would be insane and unbearable (“and I think,” wrote my clever friend C., in an email, “a nod to his s&m sensibility, since it is like torture.”)
Twenty-two blocks (& 4 crosstown) later, I arrived to learn that there was a two-hour wait just to get in to the exhibit.
We will not meet today, Jack the Ripper coat. Not today. #fail