Last night I discovered that I cannot tie a bowtie. No. I really, really can't tie a bowtie. I looked at pictures. I looked at videos. I tried figuring it out on my own and came up with something that was vaguely right but total shit. Look, I can't even tie my shoes properly (I'm left-handed and no one ever wanted to show me how, so I have to do it the rabbit-ear way) and I cannot tie a motherfucking bowtie. So, you know, if you know how, and you're gonna be a Gally... I may need your help with the tux thing.
Last night I also discovered that modern tuxedo stud sets are not designed to properly deal with the waistcoat of this thing. So now I've got that on my mind for Gally too.
And I'm still learning how to wear the thing. You can't just put something on, you have to know how to wear it. Really. It takes work. And now I'm wondering if at Gally, I'll just slide into it with perfect ease, or if I'll be even more "goddamn fucking tie" about it. Right so!
And I've got to get my hair trimmed in the next four days.
Um, you guys know I'm a basket of broody, broody issues about Gally this year, right? Like, despite the fact I'm totally psyched.
Tragically, Patty had a migraine last night, cutting short our evening at the Plaza's champagne bar with friends. Overall, I like the Algonquin better. They call me sir when I'm dressed like a man.