New York's pretzels, in particular, have a knack of looking and smelling far better than they taste.
Master Manhattan would surely be half the man he is today without his street carts. Somehow, kebabs, hot dogs, cupcakes, fruit juices, and multi-coloured soft serve cones on the double, materialise just as your headache and stomach begin to whine in harmony. Fast forward five minutes, and the cart man has convinced you to absolutely require every extra and last dollar possible. Another five, and you tumble down the ultimate divide between beautifully advertised imagery and what truly is (though I'm told that a 99c hawt dawg on Brawdway at 3am exceeds all sensory experiences ever to have befallen you). New York's pretzels, in particular, have a knack of looking and smelling far better than they taste, particularly in comparison to Vienna's Krispy Kreme-d affairs. But they're giant versions of the packet babies I'm used to, and they've peekaboo for both my eyes and my mouth.
That's good enough for me.*
So, for this wildly kitsch and touristic rationale, I took a half hour away from shows, presentations, meetings and 4G to ring around the rosy with my newest perishable friend - had I tried, I might almost have been able to link arms with it. Bra-free and wide-stepping pants as happy as they come, you would be excused for mistaking me for a hippie child, had it not been for a tote in tow and what are certainly the highest heels I own (for now). Thank goodness for that. As much as strappy or pointed-toe patent black or white would have dressed my feet and fullstopped this ensemble just as well, I wasn't convinced that I had the years behind me to succumb to that degree of South-Parisian chic... and so the red remained (partially to mask my pulsing feet by the end of a long day stomping city streets).
And how about this creamy and dreamy lens I have just recently started snapping with for campaign work!? If it weren't for its monstrous size and extreme zoom factor, I would never shoot on another lens. But more on that later, when I have a much wider portfolio of images to show you.
I must now retire.
*as long as it's salted.