Shopping with Angela Simmons

In my first weeks in New York City, one of my most shocking experiences culminates in the overwhelming exposure to celebrities.  I've considered adding a blogroll just to list them as I go (let me know if you'd be interested in something like this in the comments?).  Never been one to religiously follow the likes of Perez Hilton or any of those daily rag mags, I generally deem myself to be completely out of the loop when it comes to celebrity sightings - as in, I often miss them completely.  That has not been the case, recently.  In fact, I can fill my fingers with the rich and famous I've seen in just the last two weeks of June alone.

Now, few of these sightings contain any meaning to me personally.  I mean, normally when I see a celebrity, a little flair of excitement wells up in my chest and I spend the next minutes flagrantly trying to appear normal by averting my eyes and pursing my lips to hide my smile.  General awkwardness aside, there is little if any interaction between said celebrity and myself in the course of this spotting.

Fancy a little turn of events when I wandered into the sole Top Shop location in all of America.  It was an exciting event all on it's own - my first foray into the much talked about, much adulated, and exclusively European mecca of trend.  I took great care in wandering three floors of alternative designs, focusing solely on clothes.  However, after a not so successful stop in the dressing room, I reexamined my options and the shoe section caught my eye.  Pouring back and forth between the classic black heels and the rocker military booties, I had no less than three sales girls with posh British accents helping me decide (did you know that Top Shop actually ships them overseas and puts them up in NYC just to work in the store?).  But it wasn't until the lovely ladies left me to my own devices that I really had a chance to think through my decision in the full length mirror.  Lost in my thoughts of pros and cons, I overheard a girl behind me chattering away about the military booties.  Thinking she might have been mocking my admiration, I raised my eyes in the mirror to see who was pointing directly at my feet.  She must have felt my eyes because at that moment she turned from her friends to look up at my not-so-subtle glare and she smiled, "Girl, those boots look hot!"  And then I noticed it: those full lips and exotic coloring and yes, cupcakes on her sneakers - it was Angela Simmons.  Caught completely off guard, I stumbled over my words and managed to turn around to smile in a rushed thank you.  And I couldn't help myself.  I burdened her with my dilemma between the black and tan and she was quick to claim the military boots with simple logic, "Those black heels will always be available.  They're not going anywhere.  Those buckled up wedges, though?  You won't get another chance like this for at least 10 years."

And that was it.  I took advice from the daughter of a famous rap star now reverend who designs gym shoes with dessert flourishes and fancies her self a reality star socialite.

What a weird and wonderful place this city is.


Oh, and the shoes - for good measure: