gucchi, prada, coach...?

so we started out early, early enough that on vancouver time i would only be about half way through my sleep. i would be lying if i said it didn't feel that early, but i was eager and ready to go. last night we had got to reading articles on chamber street, the beginning of chinatown, where vendors hawk there wears often aggresively with an emphasis on immitation brand name handbags and watches. most of this market has been driven underground and the article warned that if solicited you may be taken down some back alley to view the goods. m was excited, neigh he was chomping at the bit to try. an adventure he said, something to talk about. i was leery, tired but also a little intrigued. so off we went on the subway, chinatown our desitination.


it is worth mentioning that on the subway three kids got on with a ghetto blaster (and i believe that in this context ghetto had a whole new meaning). they proceded to break dance and not in a "i am not sure i know what i am doing i just want your money" kind of a way but in an "honest to god back flippin, handstandin, right in the subway" kind of a way. it blew me away and i kicked myself for not getting my camera out immediately and video taping it.


so here we are on canal street and it is overwhelming right off the bat. everyone is wearing black north face jackets, a see of vendors standing on corners, flashing catalogues. name brands are being whispered all around us. i am too scared. we continue on and i get a coffee, my spirits slightly renewed. i knew that m wanted me to make the first move, he was looking for a thrill but he needed me to drive the car to get there. i also knew he probably wouldn't leave until i gave him what he wanted. the next person who asked i said the magic words. show me.


we were walking now, down a long alley. i thought maybe it would be around a corner, just out of sight. but this was far, far enough to make you question what you were doing, far enough to feel dirty and illicit and underground. after a 5 minute walk down what can only be described as a rundown back alley we arrive at a steel door, she tries the handle but it is locked. she pulls out a cellphone and makes the call and moments later the door opens, we are ushered inside.


naively i thought that i would find a store behind the door but all that was there was a freight elevator and a boy standing in the corner, we stepped inside and the outside steel doors shut, our guide on her way back to the street, on the search for more customers.


the elevator takes us down, down, down and it starts to get hot, uncomfortable hot. once we hit the destination the door opens and we step outside, unguided we work our way down a long hallway towards a lit space and find ourselves in a room not 5' x 7' with 4 other people and the vendor. the walls are lined with the promised goods, most hideous and blatantly branded. you know the bags, everyone seems to have one. this wasn't about the bags though this was about the experience.


i knew i couldn't leave empty handed though, not after all that and i have been needing a bag anyway, mine long since falling apart. i perused the fake leather goods lined walls and settled upon a "prada" bag, black with buckles and pockets. it isn't the kind of bag i would normally pick but i feel i could pull it off. $30 handed over and back into the elevator we go, this time once we hit the top we are led out another door, the back way and once again we see the light of day. our adventure has been had, our mission successful.


we headed to soho after that and had some lunch, walking past nyu and washington square we once again got on the subway and returned home in time to quickly change clothes and head out to the opera. samson and delilia. it was ok, i was a little sleepy and the place was filled with new york upper crust which can leave a bad taste in the mouth but we were in a box which was interesting. box 10 to be exact, each box had it's own door and coat room for your belongings. at 3 hours and 10 minutes though i was glad to be out of there.

tonight we went took a cab to a bosnia restaurant in the garment district, nothing like back home cooking to reminisce about the good old days. of course i couldn't understand a word of it but i enjoyed my ghoulash none the less.


walking home we wandered through times square and i played with the camera. the wind was howling and people's scarves were blowing, hats sailing. there were thousands of people crowding the streets, out for a show or just to see the lights. it was overwhelming and annoying at the same time. i was glad to finally make it home into the warmth of this tiny apartment and rest my feet.

who knows what tomorrow will bring.