Barbara, a minister in New Hampshire remembers Her New York, one I only knew in glamorous movies where women had curves and to show them off in wonderful dresses of black and white.
Aunt Toots "My Aunt Toot lived at 212 E. 48th Street from the time I was born (almost 70 years ago) till around the late 60's. A very sophisticated executive secretary for RT Vanderbilt, she introduced me to my first alcoholic drink when I was about 18. After seeing me turn up my nose to a dry sherry, she fixed me a home squeezed Tom Collins and I've been drinking gin ever since.
Tootie made most all of my dresses till I finished graduate school, using the same pattern and varied types of material. This was very helpful as my hips were so much larger than my waist that it was almost impossible to buy ready made dresses.
One of the great times was when my mother and I took an overnight train to the city from Maine. I can't imagine why it would have taken all night. We did things like the Ice Follies and taping of the Perry Como show, also saw Victor Borge.
Aunt Toot never went outside without her veil and gloves. Her scent was Chanel No. 5. When I visited her, she would take me to great places for lunch--I also wore white gloves but not a veil! And of course we always went to Radio City Music Hall."
MY PRIVATE CONEY presents IT WAS HER NEW YORK, the short stories that accompany the work-in-progress video and photo collection of the same name (myprivateconey.com - media link - IT WAS HER NEW YORK). The stories and the media explore the tender rubble that holds both my mother, Florence's and New York's soul as one disappears into old age and the other into gentrification. All are real observations and/or experiences with very little tall-tale telling.
Except when it makes the story better.
Please visit myprivateconey.com for additional information and sample works.
In Memoriam: Lloyd M. Rucker, 1957-2013
The Chelsea community is united this week in mourning the passing of one of its own, artist Lloyd M. Rucker. Although the exact circumstances of Lloyd’s deat...