A young professional’s take on the trials and tribulations of everyday life in New York City.
By Nina Pajak
Fashion Week in New York is hard for us normals. Of course, we’re all used to walking among the beautiful people around here, but at least they’re typically more spread out. During Fashion Week, though, you can’t swing a $12,000 Chanel purse without hitting at least three models and an actorexic. Am I the first to make up that word? Please say yes. Someone always beats me to these things.
It’s impossible not to stare. At their beautiful skin, their effortless style, their ability to wear high-waisted jeans and not look like your great aunt Mildred after one too many pieces of cheesecake. And it’s difficult to be confronted with such concentrated beauty without then turning the mirror back on yourself. You look at your clothes which now seem somewhat drab, and your drugstore-treated hair, and your pale complexion which hasn’t seen the Ibiza sun in like,
Feeling fat, inadequate and dejected, you would normally go straight home, open up a tub of peanut butter-filled pretzels and turn on the television, just waiting for the right commercial to come along and promise to fix you up proper for the low, low price of three easy payments of $29.95 (+S&H). But imagine now that instead of going to all that trouble, you simply hop in a cab to take you far, far away, and from that very backseat you can wave away your uglies with a swipe of your smartphone.
That’s right! Starting Thursday, some taxis in the Fashion Week-heavy neighborhoods will be testing out a program that will allow
ripe suckers passengers to buy beauty supplies directly from their Taxi TVs, using smartphone technology which I will never fully understand. If you’re lucky enough to get picked up by one of these participating cabs, your ride will be free of charge in the hopes that you will instead impulsively spend $200 on a tub of magic eye cream or a Botox-at-home kit. I wonder what the taxi driver’s cut might be. I guess you’ll know if he’s got a piece of the action if he starts extolling the virtues of a good bronzer or asking you when the last time was you took a look at those crow’s feet.
No, really look at them.
Dear Readers: While I am rarely at a loss for words, I’m always grateful for column ideas. Please feel free to e-mail me your suggestions.
Nina Pajak is a writer and publishing professional living with her husband on the Upper West Side.
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