Thankfully Victoria’s Secret is padding.
I was wearing ALL WHITE as the sky split open and cried to Dido songs at last night’s Bryant Park concert. Fans swayed, twirling umbrellas, huddling like team players, not strangers. Despite the rain, a rectangle of Manhattan resembled the beach: opened colorful umbrellas, cold beers, splashing, a beach ball or two propelled into the air, bouncing overhead. Who says Manhattan doesn’t have beaches? It might have been chick music, but the guys made out all right. It was an unofficial wet tee shirt contest. I’m quite sure I won. First prize: a hangover.