{"id":3140,"date":"2009-08-05T14:41:28","date_gmt":"2009-08-05T21:41:28","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/lacouturiernyc.wordpress.com\/?p=3140"},"modified":"2021-10-31T17:56:07","modified_gmt":"2021-11-01T00:56:07","slug":"the-city-the-steps-of-the-met-part-1","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/kimberlypearl.co\/blog\/the-city-the-steps-of-the-met-part-1\/","title":{"rendered":"The City: The Step of The Met (Part 1)"},"content":{"rendered":"

I fell in love with New York City when I was but (give or take) five years old. I had long been enamored with the rows of beautiful boutiques nestled quaintly between glamorous, large-scale department stores (a wonderful balance), the outline of the skyline and silhouette of the Empire State Building quite distinct at dusk; the image would never leave my mind after numerous encounters with it in illustrated children’s books. But it wasn’t until I picked up\u00a0Eloise<\/a><\/em> when I fell head over heels for the city. Its cover had be drawn in, wide-eyed and eager pore over delectable illustrations and text; where else could one possibly find a book constructed entirely of the colors black, white, pink, and golden yellow? Surely, in the eyes of a little girl those four shades epitomized glamour in a simple manner.<\/p>\n

My infatuation with\u00a0Eloise<\/em>, one that\u00a0lasts still to this day, is a story for another day. But the City’s appeal had seeded itself since. Perhaps it was the magic of “the city that never sleeps” that drew me in – at that time I associated it with\u00a0The Nutcracker ballet<\/em>, Christmastime, and all things girly and beautiful. But even now, driving past – or into – the skyline never fails to excite me. My eyes gaze longingly, my heart palpitates in excitement – all as if each sight was the first. And I am hardly exaggerating.<\/p>\n

So begins Part I: The Steps of the Met of “The City” series.<\/p>\n

2 August 2009<\/em><\/p>\n

For quite some time, I have been dying to visit the “Model As Muse<\/a>” Exhibit at the Metropolitan (actually, I have been wanting to visit the Met for quite some time now; deprived? I know.). And there is no one better to drag along on a rather dense fashion trip than my fabulously talented soul sister (and fellow dancer),\u00a0M<\/a>. (An aside: Keep her in mind, darlings, I guarantee she will be quite the big handbag designer in the future). A match made in heaven, if you will, for she is the one who understands my insatiable thirst for anything and everything fashion-related. And we both gasped driving into the city – yes, I do believe M. is the one and only comprehends me. We think on the same brain waves, without a doubt. There is proof of that; upon meeting we were clad in the same color scheme: gray\/cream on our blouses, little shorts, black shoes, and a black bag.<\/p>\n

Surely you must think me to be entirely insane for wanting to go to NYC when there are high chances of rain and a thunderstorm. But I must disagree: I find the city to be\u00a0most<\/em> entrancing when it is pouring – the trees are greener, the decadent apartments and shops mysterious, the streets glistening. ‘Tis a pain to have my feet soaked in flooded areas, but the sight of the city in noble grays, taupes, and bits of green really is a sight to see.<\/p>\n

Entirely crazy? Perhaps.<\/p>\n

Anywho<\/em>. Walking up the steps did make me feel a bit more important; I was inevitably sucked into the grandeur of the decadent and renowned museum, whose entrance was covered with adorable<\/em> European tourists with fancy cameras snapping away. My note to self as M. & I walked in?\u00a0This<\/em> is the ultimate spot for meeting lovely European boys (eye candy alongside the wondrous exhibits) or some intellectual but adorable boy of some sort.\u00a0We scanned the crowd a bit and wandered in as I deliberated where to clip my\u00a0petit<\/em> turquoise button\/clip; there was nowhere to clip it on my person save the lace camisole peeking from beneath my blouse: right at the cleavage. I swear it was not done with the intention of drawing eyes to the bust!<\/p>\n

I must admit that the “Model As Muse” exhibit was slightly disappointing; I did my fair share of oohs and ahhs at a particular vintage Vogue cover and Verushka’s renowned shot in a Yves Saint Laurent safari-inspired lace-up tunic, but the exhibit was a bit short and a tad boring. I do feel as if the lighting hadn’t exhibited the gowns to the best of their potential, and the procession of time periods was a bit choppy. However, the concept of each area within the exhibit was well done, theme wise. And I did learn quite a lot. The glamorous 1940s & 50’s was the era in which supermodels began their reign in the fashion world.<\/p>\n

The rest of the museum (to be exact, the exhibits we did see: Modern, Greek, Afghanistan, tribal) were quite spectacular. Beware of a picture overload, for here are my favorite snaps that I found to be entirely inspirational (specific posts to come soon!):<\/p>\n

My two favorite paintings are by Georgia O’Keefe – the colors, the shapes – simply everything about the two are unbelievably perfect.<\/p>\n

\"nyc<\/a><\/p>\n

\"nyc<\/a><\/p>\n

The infamous number five. Really the most beautiful of numbers; the straight edges, the curves, the swirl – there is a reason why this particular number is often drawn or used as an insignia of sorts.<\/p>\n

\"nyc<\/a><\/p>\n

Muriel Kallis Steinberg. The bold colors against the gold frames were brilliant.<\/p>\n

\"nyc<\/a><\/p>\n

Manierre Dawson’s\u00a0The Meeting (The Three Graces)<\/em>. Simply beautiful.<\/p>\n

\"nyc<\/a><\/p>\n

Afghanistan: Hidden Treasures from the National Museum, Kabul<\/a>. My favorite exhibit by far, for I have long been enamored and fascinated by the mysteriousness of the Middle East; not to mention, the exquisiteness of the history. Delicate gold filaments in the most beautiful of patterns juxtaposed with the earthiness of turquoise truly is the perfect contrast.<\/p>\n

\"nyc<\/a><\/p>\n

\"nyc<\/a><\/p>\n

\"nyc<\/a><\/p>\n

\"nyc<\/a><\/p>\n

\"nyc<\/a><\/p>\n

From the tribal exhibit (?):<\/p>\n

\"nyc<\/a><\/p>\n

\"nyc<\/a><\/p>\n

And I leave you with my favorite quote presented at the end of the Afghanistan exhibit, which I so dutifully jotted down in my (new, patent & croc-embossed) journal:<\/p>\n

\n

“A nation stays alive when its culture stays alive.”<\/em><\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

bisous,<\/p>\n

La C.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

I fell in love with New York City when I was but (give or take) five years old. I had long been enamored with the rows of beautiful boutiques nestled quaintly between glamorous, large-scale department stores (a wonderful balance), the outline of the skyline and silhouette of the Empire State Building quite distinct at dusk; the image would never leave my mind after numerous encounters with it in illustrated children’s books. But it wasn’t until I picked up\u00a0Eloise when I fell head over heels for the city. Its cover had be drawn in, wide-eyed and eager pore over delectable illustrations and text; where else could one possibly find a book constructed entirely of the colors black, white, pink, and golden yellow? Surely, in the eyes of a little girl those four shades epitomized glamour in a simple manner. My infatuation with\u00a0Eloise, one that\u00a0lasts still to this day, is a story for another day. But the City’s appeal had seeded itself since. Perhaps it was the magic of “the city that never sleeps” that drew me in – at that time I associated it with\u00a0The Nutcracker ballet, Christmastime, and all things girly and beautiful. But even now, driving past – or…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_exactmetrics_skip_tracking":false,"_exactmetrics_sitenote_active":false,"_exactmetrics_sitenote_note":"","_exactmetrics_sitenote_category":0,"_genesis_hide_title":false,"_genesis_hide_breadcrumbs":false,"_genesis_hide_singular_image":false,"_genesis_hide_footer_widgets":false,"_genesis_custom_body_class":"","_genesis_custom_post_class":"","_genesis_layout":"full-width-content","jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":false,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[3,19,20],"tags":[366,1166,441],"class_list":{"0":"post-3140","1":"post","2":"type-post","3":"status-publish","4":"format-standard","6":"category-art","7":"category-kims-diary","8":"category-life","9":"tag-diary","10":"tag-museum","11":"tag-metropolitan-museum-of-art","12":"entry","13":"has-post-thumbnail"},"yoast_head":"\nThe City: The Step of The Met (Part 1) • Soft Sensibilities<\/title>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"https:\/\/kimberlypearl.co\/blog\/the-city-the-steps-of-the-met-part-1\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"The City: The Step of The Met (Part 1) • Soft Sensibilities\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"I fell in love with New York City when I was but (give or take) five years old. 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