A strange thing happened this afternoon, but to fully understand the complexity of the situation, I believe a prologue is necessary.
Fall has finally arrived. The weather in New York City has taken a chilly turn. I celebrated this change by digging out all my Fall and Winter clothing.
Among the heavy coats, chunky merino wool sweaters, and cotton thermal undergarments I found a gift that a family friend bought for me when she went to Shanghai: a dark blue silk jacket embossed with a distinctly shimmering pattern of circles; the larger ones depicting dragons - the Chinese symbol for royalty and power.
Silk is a good insulator, coupled with light padding, my blue Shanghai jacket was perfect for the cooler city weather. It was time for me to take it out for a spin. I tried to update the look by donning a FCUK corduroy flat cap, but the reflection in the mirror told me "Chinese paper boy from the 60's".
That's fine. It's vintage. And vintage is always in.
For lunch, I thought it appropriate to visit my favorite Chinese restaurant. I picked up my order of spicy ma-po tofu with white rice, chatted briefly with the manager who complimented me on my coat and headed back to the office.
And then the lobby security guard stopped me. They've never stopped me before. "What floor?" he asked. "Six" I said as walked by him, flashing my I.D. badge. It was only after I got off the elevator that I realized what had just happened: the guard didn't think I was a fashionista, he thought I was a delivery boy. Can you believe that? [Click here if you can!]