Hey you guys—so something happened last night. Something totally unexpected, deliciously awkward, fabulously New York, and… well, you've read the title (probably), so you know where this is going.
Let me just start from the beginning, because like everything in this city, it involves a tiny outfit, a wrong address, and a perfect skyline.
🍸 The Outfit Was Too Cute to Go Home
I’d just finished drinks with Monica and Phoebe at this little tapas place in the West Village (you haven’t lived until you've tried manchego-dusted truffle patatas bravas, FYI). They both had to head home early—Monica because she left a chicken marinating (which I genuinely didn’t know was time-sensitive?), and Phoebe because she’s "recharging her moonstone."
So there I was. Alone. In SoHo. In this absolutely adorable backless silk slip dress I had been waiting to wear ever since I spotted it at a sample sale in Nolita. Think vintage Calvin Klein meets accidental fire hazard.
The night was young. My eyeliner was still intact. And I wasn’t ready to call it.
🚪 One Buzz. Zero Clues.
I was walking down Crosby Street when I spotted fairy lights glowing from a rooftop like an actual invitation from the Heavens. Laughter floated down. Funky disco music. Is someone making Aperol spritzes? My heels basically walked me to the buzzer on their own. So… I buzzed.
Someone answered with a dramatic “Heyyy, come on up!”
Okay. Bold move. But also? Who doesn't love a surprise guest, especially one in vintage Calvin Klein (ish)?
So I went.
🎉 The Party
Let me tell you: it was gorgeous. Twinkle lights everywhere. A DJ in a bucket hat (the fashion in this city never sleeps). People were clustered with glasses of rosé and miniature bite-sized tacos (bless them). I spotted at least three micro-influencers and one girl openly weeping over a situationship.
I nibbled a taco, sipped something made with elderflower (?!), and tried to look like I belonged. And honestly? Nobody questioned it. This might be the greatest truth of New York: confidence and good shoes can get you in anywhere.
“You’re Olivia’s friend, right?”
“Totally.”
(I don’t know an Olivia.)
🥂 Why It Was the Best Night Ever
1. I talked to a fashion photographer who’d just shot a campaign in Iceland and now wants to shoot me “against a skyline at golden hour.” Is this how Gigi started?
2. I danced under the stars with a very cute guy named Miles who works in creative direction (he also owns a plant).
3. I laid on a beanbag next to a girl named Sienna and had the most bizarrely deep 2 a.m. conversation about how pigeons are just "city doves with anxiety."
4. I laughed more than I have all week. And okay yes, I might have cried to “Dancing Queen,” but in my defense, we all did.
🌃 Why New York Can Be Magic
Living in this city means you are always one accidental wrong turn—or in this case, one spontaneous buzzer press—away from something unforgettable. New York opens doors. Sometimes literally.
I left just before sunrise, shoes in hand, hair full of rooftop breeze and glitter (where did the glitter come from??), and a heart that felt three sizes happier.
So, to Olivia—whoever you are—thank you. Your party was everything.
And to the strangers who welcomed me in like I belonged: you made a girl feel like New York was giving her a little wink and saying, “you’re right where you need to be.”
xoxo,
Rachel 💋
P.S. If anyone finds a rhinestone earring near the beanbag corner, it’s probably mine. Or Sienna’s. Or… we’ll share.
