Time has its own time

I finally went to the Alexander McQueen exhibit at the Met today.  This is a part of Manhattan I barely ever go to. I had to set my alarm to get up early enough so I wouldn't have to queue too long.  Still took me a long time to stir.  Got there by 10, paid my dollar, & stood in lines that weren't too crazy, but it was still really crowded.  The Met is specially open on Mondays for people that want to pay $50 for to see this show. Hah! Despite the crowds, the clothes themselves were beautiful, dark, and tragic.  They made me feel nostalgic for Britain. They made me want to throw away all my clothes and start again.  Something about the clothes, and the suicides behind them, got me thinking about people I used to know that are no longer alive.  I was swimming in melancholy.

(If you want to see footage of McQueen's last collection (in two parts), you can catch it here & here.  It's quite long, so if you want see the final, incredible costume, go right to the eight minute mark of the second part.)

After I left the Met, I walked further east, and headed downtown.  What is it about the Upper East Side that makes walking seem so slow?  Torpor! Feels like hours pass just going a couple of blocks. Went along 78th St., & saw this illustrated guide to taking measurements.

On Lexington, I passed the Sutton Clock Shop, an upper floor store from another era.  Do you have a barometer that needs repair?  I thought not, but looking to the upper floors is often consoling these days, given all the mediocrity below.  I'm not sure that the motto in the window means anything much, but I liked the fact that it was there.