I'm so sorry Mr. Bergdorf

I spent a Hen Weekend in New York City this past weekend. Okay, the bride is British so that's what it's called instead of a bachelorette weekend. We, the bridesmaids, took her to Tony and Tina's Wedding for a what-not-to-do list on Friday night and then lamely went back to the hotel and to bed by 11. Really. That's what happens when your bridesmaids are 45ish like me. On Saturday, the more cultured of the maids went to see a standing-room-only production of La Boheme. That left me and the bride alone for most of the day. Heh, heh. We spent most of that time at Bergdorf Goodman trying on impossibly expensive dresses by Etro and other designers. So fun. I had just devoured the latest In Style magazine and saw all the same dresses on display at the store. We dined on the 7th floor overlooking Central Park and each had a glass and a half of wine. That's it. Why we suddenly thought everything at Bergdorf was hilarious I'll never know but we laughed our way from the hair salon to the flu shore (what it will always be called now that the Bride mixed up "Shoe Floor"). Yes, you had to be there. Saturday night is a fog. Yay, not so old after all. On Sunday we went on the Sex and the City tour where the highlight was a cupcake from an amazing bakery in the West Village. And then home. Sigh. Already planning my return trip.