My first experience of American customer service. "How are you today ladies?" Oh! How charming!

The thing with the people working in these stores is that it is very hard to suss out if they are genuine or just as sick of being there as you would expect. I still haven't quite figured it out but I totally fell for it either way. It is also very noticeable how many men work in these retail stores. I have never quite experienced so many men ask me if I want to try some perfume or if I want help finding the right bag. I think the UK should take note... the tactic works.

Entering the unknown

Next stop Sephora. What a beauty! Visually the place was a gem and I found myself feeling a tad guilty climbing the huge and beautiful staircase at the back of the store. It almost felt as though I was in the main entrance of a stately home and very badly trespassing. However, I did feel that this mood was slightly ruined by the harsh lighting, even though it would most likely not be the best idea to have dim lighting in a make-up store, orange faces not being a good look in New York... or anywhere for that matter.
Shame... it could have been so ambient.

Venturing Out

On the first day it really struck me how incredibly huge everything was. Everything was grand, even the train station, which just so happens to have 'grand' in the title.

I felt slightly overwelmed and just walked aimlessly in any direction and towards anything that struck my eye... like the skyscraper on the right... or the skyscraper on my left. Also I got a little troubled every time I had to cross a road, suddenly becoming very aware that I may be 'J-walking' ... did a flashing red hand mean stop or go? Either way it was very unnerving and I felt that this scary countdown was rather unnecessary. 

We trailed the streets slightly aimlessly for about an hour, spotted Urban Outfitters and practically ran at it. There is something about finding a familiar place in a strange city, you get drawn to it... and then feel slightly ashamed at not being more adventurous. 

It struck me how little difference there was between the US and UK versions. Yes, it was bigger, of course. But the visual merchandising still had that warehouse feel seen in most UK stores. With brown wooden beams and industrial type boxes holding and displaying clothes.

One thing that did strike me however, was the till area, large wooden, antique looking desks held the tills and your purchase was made out by the sales assistant to be a major deal. I was only buying earings and came away feeling like I had made a huge investment. I don't know if it was the excitement of the trip or the employees sheer skill, but for someone who is usually thoroughly unconvinced by salesman banter, I felt positively giddy after my very small purchase.

My small but, i am assured, brilliant purchase.

Overexcited is not the word

Who knew that after an approximately 15 hour long journey, including a beautiful view of someone's travel sickness on the coach and the consumption of some very dubious looking omelette, I could be on such a hype usually only experienced by a two year old after eating a whole bag of sour Haribo. Seeing my first yellow taxi was enough to set me off, bouncing about as much as humanly possible with legs that had not been used in 9 hours. I got rather snap happy on the coach to the hotel, only realising later that most of the photos only captured the reflection of my friend in the seat in front and promptly deleting them so as not to look like a crazy stalker.

Upon arrival to our hotel, I was amazed at the little fountains outside and the glass fronted building with the luxurious reception...... ok so our hotel was actually next door, but I dared to dream for that split second, silly me. Our hotel, at first glance, seemed very quaint. A small reception with two "elevators" at the back. It seemed pretty average and exactly what I would expect from a short University trip.... until I reached our room.

Jade.. the designated key bearer.. opened the door. Immediately screaming "Oh my God! It's huge!!" Well I automatically assumed she was being sarcastic, not understanding how such a small hallway could hide such a large room. But I investigated and got all giddy again. Kitchen, dining area, living room, bedroom, bathroom. I thought only kings lived this way... or people with jobs.

After flicking through every single US channel ever made, we ventured out into the big city. It must have been slightly annoying for everyone I was with when I was acting like I had never seen the world before, adopting an overactive pointing obsession and regularly exclaiming, "Wow! Lets take a picture of this! I'm sure this is famous!" I ruined every chance for my friends to be 'subtle tourists'. Oh well...my bad!

A watched clock never ticks.

Thank God my watch has actually stopped working.... but for some reason I'm still checking the time. Apparently it's quarter past nine. Wishful thinking.

So to pass the time I'm having a little bit of a research.

Perfect place for the underage night owl

A must-see for any shopping fanatic

I wouldn't say i really enjoy shopping that much but the prospect of shopping in New York has thoroughly excited me! I can see myself going on a mini rampage. A good thing about being small... you can get through queues pretty much unnoticed, and if they do notice? Well I'm far too cute to be shouted at...

The frantic half hour

Ok. So maybe frantic is a bit of an exaggeration, especially seeing as I was over my panic within half an hour. But as a particularly laid back person, I must say that this last half hour has been a pretty stressful one.
I have just been packing to go back to Nottingham tomorrow, and very cleverly decided to take back a larger suitcase so that my New York experience can be made all the better by all the extra room available for the millions of heels I intend on bringing back..... or maybe not. Somehow my clothes have managed to expand, taking up twice the amount of room as they did on the way home, my shoes must have stretched and my underwear collection seems to have multiplied considerably. I would blame it on my large amount of Christmas presents but I don't think that the dollars I was given take up much room.
And seeing as getting to Nottingham is the most awkward journey on earth, comparable only maybe to Frodo's journey across Mordor in Lord of the Rings... I am not looking forward to this in the slightest. Someone of my size should not have to carry such a large suitcase across the North East, on two trains and across the East Midlands, and Frodo thought he had it bad carrying a ring?
It wasn't until my mother offered to pack for me that I eventually relaxed, put on my onesie (stylish I know... but its cold okay!) and decided to write about my ordeal. I'm going to need all my strength tomorrow to lug this huge suitcase about!

My plan for tomorrow then?
1. Watch mother pack for me
2. Find my missing shoe
3. Go and pick up my train tickets that I accidentally left at a friends
4. 15:06 get on train
5. Switch trains (preferably find a slave to carry my bag)
6. Get back to halls, research and plan the perfect trip!!

Hello New Year! Hello New York!