A mere 72 hours later, I’m back on VirginAmerica heading west to LA and reflecting on a whirlwind of events that took place in the compressed timeline of my stay in NY.

I don’t even know where to start because I leave NY with myriad emotions. Am I coming or going? Is it just time to come back home for good?

I let the melancholy of leaving a city that I spent most of life in start to creep into my day today. I hadn’t anticipated this sudden emotional strike that came on with a vengeance after days of many nice memories. But letting it overtake my last day in NY and taint my lovely experiences of the past few days? It’s not in my nature. Why waste a perfectly beautiful day. So, I called in my lifelines: Paula came to my rescue and we had a brilliant lunch, lingering for hours, soaking in the sultry day. Rick telephoned. He couldn’t make the lunch but his friendship, that has endured decades of our many life stories, lulled me back into laughter. Once again, I had my rose-colored glasses on.  Comme des Garcon, of course.

My life felt like it was moving at Concorde speed in that 72 hour period. Now, hovering 36,000 feet above the earth, the outbound journey has me buckled into the upright position for 5 hours with nothing to do but let my mind wander through the dazzling and sometimes bewildering events of my NY experience.

Too much, too fast? Or maybe it’s just the difference between NY and LA lifestyles, where interactions and life happen less instantaneously in LA. New York is in your face. You can shield yourself from life in LA. I call that isolation. Driving is the ultimate cone of silence from life. And we do it everyday in LA for hours on end.

For anyone who is not a New Yorker, it can be a daunting city. Intense. Crowded. Fast. For me that feels like “home”. We all have a true home somewhere, whether it’s the place we grew up in or a new locale that has seeped under our skin. The rhythm of the city suits me. It is also nearer to Paris, my second home. My heart and soul is in NY. They never left, even though I did for years. Everyone should find that in their life. We all need to be comfortable in our own skin, in our own natural habitat.

I had a beautiful string of days and events that were lovely moments of discovery, unfolding every hour it seemed. In that short span of 72 hours I discovered new talent, shared intimate time with my “lifelines”, threw caution to the wind and “danced” again (that is an inside joke -- you’ll have to use your imagination), ate remarkable and unremarkable food, drank good and bad wine, walked miles in my stilettos (yes, Paula, I really did wear my stilettos! The perfect muscle toner for your legs -- I leverage every moment in life), visited my plates in their new venues, unveiled my new spring line and honed my text messaging skills. Because in NY you don’t have to worry about steering a car while typing your prose. I only had to worry about stepping out into traffic when the light was not in my favor. It took some practice and near misses.

So, here’s my list of discoveries....

Hotel --

While the Paramount offered one of the cheapest deals in town, it was immediately evident WHY when you entered the lobby. It’s not aging gracefully. There was  a distinct musty, humid quality to the air. It only got worse as I got to my floor. The hall carpets were water stained and by the time I hit my room, which was no bigger than some of my shoe boxes, it was also clear that this hotel was over. Peeling Phillip Staark furniture and signs of aging on every surface was a sad comment on design, once so iconic. I would advise NOT to stay there and bear a higher price somewhere else where hygiene is No. 1 on the list of amenities.

Restaurants --

The Frying Pan off of 26th and the West Side Highway. An outdoor venue on one of the piers in Chelsea. Cheap red wine, solid food with a killer view across the Hudson and a little bit of sea spray to clear your head.

The Red Cat --

In Chelsea. Great food but also nice for a nightcap at the bar, particularly when you need to thaw out a bit from the whipping winds at the Frying Pan. Paula so kindly brought us extra clothing to warm our bodies as the winds picked up at the Frying Pan. By the time we arrived at the Red Cat, we looked as though we had just come off the ski slopes while everyone else was basking in the warm, balmy evening that was still lingering in NY. In a downturn economy, where many places are empty, the Red Cat is a  convivial atmosphere, buzzing with conversation and a great wine list.

Film Center Cafe --

It’s not the same haunt that we went to after work for Martinis years ago. This is where our lives unfolded after several Martinis with the eventual bowl of steaming pasta to soak up the Martinis. They overhauled the decor and menu and the once hip, worn venue where all the photographers would gather after a days work in their nearby studios, has become nondescript. Only the original neon sign still exists. So much history between friends took place there but with the renovations, even the walls can’t talk anymore. The worn wood paneling gone forever, along with the many stories of our lives. But the new walls might talk. I left behind a little story.

Gallo Nero --

A sweet rustic Italian spot in Hell’s Kitchen where Paula and I had our lovely afternoon. Perfect for a lazy lunch on a sultry day. The restaurant opens up onto a side street, and the fact that you can linger for hours without getting that scowl from the staff makes it feel like you’re in some trattoria in Italy . The only odd feature were the masks -- some were eerie clowns that Paula and I spent time photographing while onlookers thought we had lost our minds. Particularly when we thought it was brilliant and funny to take portraits of ourselves with the clown masks. It made for a good afternoon and certainly cheered me up!

2 Jewelry Designers --

I had the opportunity to meet with 2 designers who are doing some unique work. Maybe too dark for some but check them out. Victoria Simes’ work can be seen at Zero in Nolita. Without seeing her work, you might shudder at this but it’s brilliant. She makes jewelry from horse tail strands. I found it very sensual, not at all alarming. The other designer, Megan Marrin (mgravesjewelry.com) takes vintage, porcelain doll heads (and some limbs!) that were excavated from the remains of a former doll factory in Germany, and creates a little bit of “modernism meets history” to wear on your neck, ears and wrists.

Fashion designer --

Morgan Le Fay is something to pay attention to. For any of you who have the impression that it’s a bit more conservative, Uptown vs. Downtown -- look again. I wear my pieces with motorcycle boots, horse tail necklaces, Margiela stiletto boots, and tough leather jackets. Her work is timeless but with character and surprise.

So this is my NY story. Well, part of it. I can’t share all my secrets!