It was good to have my boy-o home again. Fauxhawk was ecstatic to be back after his week-long passport saga, and relieved to learn that his father's condition had improved. There was much to celebrate, so we rented a car and drove to Five Leaves in Greenpoint for dinner.
I'd been there several times for delicious lunches with Deb, but dinner was a whole other story. What a cozy, warm, inviting little cocoon. I could have eaten everything on the menu (and almost did). Gotta love a restaurant that serves bacon-wrapped dates. What I love about this place is its lack of pretension - despite the presence of several punchables (Ironic Mullet Boy, I'm talking about you) dining near us, the vibe was unselfconsciously happy and downright wholesome. Bonus points for hiring waitresses who look like milkmaids.
To prevent an emergency situation, we swung by Saipua in Redhook on Saturday to replenish our dwindling soap supply and to say hi to Sarah and Eric while they readied themselves for Flower School.
The shop is, as you all know, a beautiful place, but seeing a burst of candy-colored poppies in the window on a gray, frigid winter afternoon was a salve for the soul. We were greeted first by Nea, who was as charming and sniffalicious as ever and took an immediate liking to Fauxhawk's right hand, which she licked continuously in a Benadryl-induced haze as we all chatted away. I wish I had a little doggie on drugs. SNIFF.
A posy of poppies and two bars of olive oil soap in hand, we meandered to Metal and Thread and had the good fortune to find it open.
An amazing cabinet of curiosities - the kind of place where you discover that you have a deep and abiding passion for old tools, pocket knives, repurposed shelves, and unidentifiable objects made of woven straw. "Can we live here?" Fauxhawk asked, playfully. "No really," I said, deadpan.
Having potentially frightened the good people at Metal and Thread, we set our sights on Erie Basin.
Fauxhawk was really into the fancy dress hats from an old Oddfellows lodge, while I obsessed over the gilt vanity bottles. So much goodness, so beautifully curated.
Because my jaw is wired shut until the wedding, our little junket to Baked across the street was slightly painful. Damn you, cupcakes! You mock me and my enormous ass with your sugary deliciousness.
I had a homemade peppermint marshamallow to console myself. I have no idea what Fauxhawk got because I was too busy hating him/crying inside/self-flagellating while he devoured his tasty treat.
Then off to Woodley & Bunny in Williamsburg to discuss the relative merits of eyelash extensions while Fauxhawk got his hair cut. Apparently, THEY KRAZYGLUE EYELASHES TO YOUR FACE. Christ, is that what we're into now? It all seems very Clockwork Orange.
At Spoonbill and Sugartown, I poured over High Glitz: The Extravagant World of Child Pageants. A dude reading it next to me periodically freaked out and pointed at a tarty five year-old in speechless horror. The book made me feel so dirty that I turned to The Paper Bride, which is full of good DIY wedding ideas and is - let's face it - paper porn.
Finally, dinner at Tai Thai, which is supposed to serve it up cheap and cheerful-styles. I wouldn't know because I ate STEAMED FUCKING VEGETABLES AND BROWN RICE WHILE FAUXHAWK ATE CRISPY, DELICIOUS DUCK. This is my life for the next four months, people. Shit has gotten that hectic.
And home again. Home to snoozing cats, good books, and soft pillows. Home is good.
Image credits: Curbed, Saipua, Metal & Thread, Erie Basin, Baked, Is It Cool Enough for Marty?
