Connor and Brendan

Last night, I went to bed in tears for a mother named Glenda Moore in Staten Island, whose two little boys, aged 2 and 4, were torn from her arms by Hurricane Sandy’s surge. Yesterday, rescue workers found them at the end of the street, drowned. Their names were Connor and Brendan.

According to the Associated Press, Glenda Moore’s SUV stalled in rising water and she lost her grip on the boys as they tried to escape.

“In a panic, she climbed fences and went door-to-door looking in vain for help in a neighborhood that was presumably largely abandoned in the face of the storm. She eventually gave up, spending the night trying to shield herself from the storm on the front porch of an empty home,” AP reported.

This list will help you choose the best way to help the victims of Hurricane Sandy.

People are hungry and cold. Their homes are underwater or gone. There is a fuel shortage, and it’s hard to get around, to get help, to find family. I’m coming home tomorrow — if I can get to the airport — with this city, and my family, and Connor and Brendan’s mother in my heart.

 The Empire State Building, as seen from the New York Public Library reading room, where I looked for light in the dark.

 

By |2012-11-02T08:25:16-07:00November 2nd, 2012|Travel|2 Comments

Pre-Sandy NYC Joy

The city is starting to come back to life, and I have a flight home that promises not to get cancelled. Meanwhile, before there was Sandy, there was joy. Things I loved in the city:

This foxy doorknocker in the West Village, which reminded me of my Burberry crush.

Kissing pumpkins at Lulu Guinness on Bleecker Street:

Discovering Brooklyn’s Fort Greene, complete with autumn leaves.

A trip with Marni to MJ Trim, craft headquarters of the universe.

An evening at The Standard Grill, ever chic (with the best photo booth in the basement).

Pumpkin doughnuts at Doughnut Plant in Chelsea, my favorite NYC treat.

Iron and webs for the holiday that was cancelled, in the West Village.

An autumnal afternoon on a bench in Union Square Park, where I watched a couple kiss like it was their first date.

Walking to dinner at Co.

A window filled with tiny paper artwork at the beautiful Pushkin on 57th Street, near 5th Avenue.

My temple of doom.

Pumpkins for sale streetside in the Chelsea flower market district — an experience not to be missed.

Warm and stylish surroundings at the new Hotel Gansevoort Park Avenue, where we visited Winston’s Champagne Bar.

Gorgeous autumnal displays in all the restaurants, including Gramercy Tavern, where I had butternut squash soup with chestnuts and lobster. It’s about as perfect as a restaurant can be.

Lunchtime tradition — my beloved Union Square Cafe. Eat at the bar, share incredible salad and pasta and laughs. This is the Barefoot Contessa’s favorite restaurant in the city.

A stop into Fish’s Eddy for kitchen-addled, table setting bliss.

A skeleton in the moon  at Tinsel Trading Co., Martha Stewart’s favorite store in all the world — truly.

And sidewalk wisdom that I found walking the streets.

 

By |2012-11-01T05:27:31-07:00November 1st, 2012|Travel|0 Comments

NYC: Hello, Hurricane

I’m going to blow out an emergency candle on top of a granola bar for my birthday in New York City today.

My flight home was cancelled and the city has shut down. The taxi horns have stopped. We’re left listening to wind. Even the chess tables in Washington Square Park are empty.

Ah, Frankenstorm, thanks for the mystic fun.

(The last night of peace: our view from the rooftop bar of the Met, my new favorite place in the city.)

(Checkmate, Sandy: Washington Square Park — where Harry left Sally.)

I’m staying with a girlfriend and our hurricane preparedness has included stocking up on water and flashlights and non-perishables, of course. We also over-ordered at restaurants so we can have leftovers and ran to Sam Flax for glitter. We need constructive indoor activity and cheerful attitudes, n’est-ce pas?

A smart last supper: dinner with leftovers at Ilili. I loved the giant pumpkins on high shelves and the Mediterranean food we can dream about while eating trail mix: falafel, fattoush, labne, and wicked brussels sprouts.

Then, we blew off Saturday night Halloween parties to push two grocery carts down 57th Street, fighting taxis and stares, laughing like the madwomen we appeared to be.

Scary shelves at Whole Foods that once held water:

We’ve been tempted to interfere with the  people in line about what “non-perishable” means. Lean Cuisine, hummus and Snack-Pack pudding do not qualify. Peanut Butter, people, you need peanut butter.

I hope I still like peanut butter when all of this is over.

Early Sunday morning, I walked the High Line with Marni just as the wind kicked up. I sat on a bench and watched golden leaves float down cool currents.

Sandy, be gentle to my beloved New York.

Save power interruptions and mass calamity, I’ll be posting on Instagram, Twitter and Facebook if you’d like to follow along. On Instagram, I’m @jaimeerosestyle.

By |2012-10-29T03:30:02-07:00October 29th, 2012|Travel|0 Comments
Go to Top