The Bra That Got Away
Like any style-conscious New York City girl, I braved the busy sidewalks and bustling stores on Fashion’s Night Out. Walking from Lincoln Center towards Midtown East, I carried my heels in my purse until I’d crossed the park and hidden behind a flowerpot. The transformation from Juilliard’s “Little Match Girl” to Versace’s best friend had begun in the click of a heel, and it was time for this fiddler to be fabulous.
Having created my list of must-see stores, I set off for my first stop: Saks Fifth Avenue. After all, Oscar de la Renta was signing autographs, for Chanel’s sake! Of course, I had the false hope of gabbing like BFFs with Anna Wintour, but, alas, she chose Victoria Beckham for the role. Next time.
I migrated uptown to Madison Avenue and continued to check boutiques off my list. I met up with my all-knowing fashion diva boyfriends to drink champagne at Dolce & Gabbana, while idolizing lace dresses of every imaginable shade—in dignified fashion, of course. We strolled across the street to Michael Kors in search of adventure, and more champagne. My friends dared me to try on Michael’s red silk bias-cut evening gown, one that left very little to the imagination. I came out of the dressing room to find ten Asian girls with their iPhones pointed in my direction screaming, “yes, OMG do it!” Meanwhile, my two flaming diva boyfriends looked as if they had forgotten they were gay.
After much debate, the dress went on hold and we escaped the twitterazzi to finish our night on the town. I dreamed of sugarplums and evening gowns until the alarm clock resounded with a “cock a doodle doo!”
As I was dressing for my first day back at Juilliard, I suddenly realized I was missing something rather important. My non-existent chest was, well, non existent: where did I put my . . .
“Oh dear god, my bra is sitting in the Michael Kors dressing room!”
My mind was racing with questions: How does one retrieve an abandoned bra? Should I simply count this as a loss?
Hi, yes, I put a $3,000 evening gown on hold last night that I really can’t afford and I left my bra in the dressing room by mistake, and . . . old granny grungy nude with only one strap, yes, that’s it! . . . No, I won’t be getting the dress, but I would like to pick up my bra. Can I have that gift-wrapped?
Yes, I did in fact make the inevitable phone call, although it took a second attempt to actually tell them why I was calling. Alas, I was told the cleaning crew had discarded it along with the broken champagne glasses. (Deep sigh.)
If only every girl could be me.
Emma Sutton is a second-year master’s student in violin.