One horrible Departure from New York.

terrifying events that occurred to me at the departure - Delta refused to check in my luggage-so I was pushed to make a choice to ether fly without it or NOT at all.

5 minutes decided almost everything. Just 5 minutes… 3 days of chaotic packing, going over and over with feeling of hesitation about what shall ONE need for a trip-eliminating something just to add another pile of clothes. Struggle between the desire to have outfits for every occasion for 7+ weeks trip overseas and a common sense, whispering in my ears against too many choices.

I tried to write a list of categories: outwear, everyday wear, special occasion wear, country house wear, evening wear, etc. It didn’t help my out-sized imagination; if anything it’s complicated the packing process even more.

The truth is I don’t know how to pack for myself.

I’ve done packing for other people and they seemed to be grateful for that.

When it comes down to packing for myself I am indecisive, over imaginative, and I have to try everything before putting it in the suitcase. It makes the process of packing as complicated as a science project…

And even when something is tried on and approved, the chance of elimination is still possible, simply because I somehow accumulated a huge collection of clothes - combination of different tops, bottoms; multiplies the variety of choices and makes the packing going bizarre…

I always think of what if: -one of my girlfriends is going to get married-or there’s a birthday bash-or a black tie event-or a party for whatever reason?, etc. So I try to pack the outfits for all these occasions, then there’s always my love for the opera-I try to go to the Kiev opera house at least twice a week – can you imagine the number of little black dresses I’ve got to have available, and the little purses, and all the accessories ?

I end up having to huge suitcases and honestly still felt like I forgot something.

When I left apartment (in ruins: with clothes and shoes everywhere) for JFK everything that was supposed to be going smoothly started going the opposite way.

First, I discovered that one of my suitcases handles is stuck inside and would not pop up, which made it very difficult to roll, F train took forever to arrive on 63^rd street- then escalator on E train wasn’t running up and we waited 15 minutes for the elevator, air train was fast, but too many stops!!… Verbal accompaniment by Evgueni ,who was kind enough to help me out, BUT merciless with his predictions…His “I told you so” were so frequent that, when we got to the terminal and noticed that it was no crowd; his final “I told you so” was almost unbearable…

The agent which we approached with my 2 huge suitcases + carry on + back pack + purse, looked surprised:

Agent:”Are you flying to Amsterdam?”- with a facial expression like it was some kind of a joke.

I:”yes.”-despite being scared I tried to sound strong and in charge…

Agent:” at 3:50?”-she looked at the clock.

I:” yes”-trying NOT to look at the clock.

Agent:” you’re late…5 minute late for check in”-then she started typing something without glimpse at my printed itinerary .

I:”…………”-honestly I was speechless and got cold sweat dripping down my back

Agent:” you can try to make it, if you go right now without your baggage…you might be able to get on the plane”- I wish I could say that she looked sympathetic….instead she looked a little curious and vindictive.

I turned to my 2 heavily pregnant suitcases, which contained all my clothes for the trip and at that moment – the moment of no return-I nodded without nagging and took the boarding pass in my cold fingered hands.

Evgueni looked like he was partly satisfied with being right (another silent “I told you so”), and partly shocked because he had to bring those TWO back to the apartment…

I opened one suitcase and in a split second took a pair of jeans, a tee shirt and white down jacket out of it.

My carry on was filled with bunch of shoes: boots and pumps –the back pack had computer in its belly...

I walked away promptly, holding tears in my eyes…

The moment of truth…the moment of decision…the moment that felt like something physically was pulled out of me. I was going for 7.5 weeks trip to Europe wardrobe-less!!!!!!

Should I mention that plane left an hour behind the schedule?…And then, after waiting for 6 hours for my flight to Kiev in Amsterdam’s airport, I was asked to check in my carry on right before getting on the plane…I hesitated for a moment, the flight attendant’s professional smile kindly assured me it will be on the plane, I thought that there’s NO CHANCE that something more could happen….just to find out that my carry on was lost!!! It took me another 2 days to get it!!!

Now I have to learn to live without choice of what to wear...Will I survive???

The secret life of the mannequins.

Don’t raise your eyebrows just yet. I know what you want to say:

It’s not that much of a secret; after all they are in the window- on display…For everybody to look at.

But not everybody who looks at them can actually SEE what I can see…

And even if you can see- I hope now through my eyes-we go deeper into the subject and try to decode it…

They have their own agenda and schedule: when the stores are closed, who knows what is going on??

When they don’t have to pretend anymore and to stand still and emotionless…they probably have something else to do-why not? They are definitely dressed fashionably for any party or gathering; at least mannequins in my village are…Some of them…

In fact, I would love to be able to attend some of their events…if ONLY I could. I imagine how I would crash in and mingle among finely dressed as men and women pretend to be…We are all pretending anyway, they are only guilty of not pretending at all- they are NOT real…Or are they?

Barneys windows are always amazingly honest with us humans-their mannequins ARE having good time-they ARE exceptionally innovative in how they positioned in the window-I wish I could be one of them…It’s like a private club-greatly clothed, fine company and location- location- location….

But then I noticed that some of the mannequins are living wild life right there in their windows…We are passing them by, while they’re screaming with all they have-their look! Look at this one-without panties-innocently enough standing up on the second floor window …

Some are wearing just underwear or swimwear-proudly keeping straight posture…in the cold streets of Manhattan while we are layering ourselves against winter wind…

After I saw Eres window with beautiful almost naked bodies- in freezing cold behind the vitrine glass-I felt an urge of a need to be supportive - I got home and I put one of my many swimwear on-just to be cooperative…Camaraderie with mannequins in bikinis, or maybe camaraderie with the future owners of those bikinis??

And on top of that I wanted to prove to myself, that I could do it too…Maybe my bikini is under many layers, but if opportunity presents itself-voila-I have the same look-two piece and a proud posture…

Then I came across man’s mannequin with sign:”BUY ME” on his perfect six packs...

Recession time hit them too-erroneous!!!…they are provocatively open with us…"BUY ME"!! I was tempted to get in the store and ask how much he would go for. But goody- goody girl inside of me started blushing…too risqué…too easily achievable…or slavery-and who’s going to be a slave: me or him?

Some of the conversations I overheard while window shopping:

1. two women are looking in the window-one is asking:”Dear, you look so thin, what’s your new diet?”

The other one answers:”Thank you sweetie- the best one around-stomach flu.”

2. two men looking are looking in the window-one is asking:”…?” Wait a minute… men wouldn’t be caught dead looking in the store windows, unless they are accompanied by their wives, girlfriends, daughters, mothers, secretaries, dogs or male partners….

But anybody who has a good story, please send it to me!