Almost Famous

Yikes. Men, don't let this happen to you.

Today's posting is a tribute to fashion. After all, it is Thursday - and that means hair therapy followed by retail therapy. Up to bat: Bergdorf Goodman.

First, a quick lesson. There are four "B's" of shopping in New York, and you attack them in the following order:

-Bloomingdale's
-Barney's
-Bergdorf Goodman
-(Henri) Bendel

I've crossed the first two off my list many times, settling on Barney's as my go-to. But the latter two had remained uncharted territory, until tackling Bergdorf today.

Having done a walk-by yesterday afternoon, I felt fully prepared for entry (read: I'd identified the difference between the men's store on the east corner, and the women's store on the west corner). The revolving doors moved me onto a vast floor of handbags and accessories that looked a lot like...Barney's. Okay, like Barney's, I'm guessing I need to ascend some floors to get into my zone. So I take the escalator up to the second floor, because we all know you never take the elevator the first time you're in a department store - the danger of what you might miss isn't worth it.

HALELUJAH!

Jimmy. Manolo. Christian. Some of the world's finest and most sophisticated men are right here before me - and how handsome they all are! Slingbacks, platforms, round toes, pointy toes, jeweled heels...I'm overwhelmed by the sound of them all calling my name. Hmmm...but I'm certainly not overwhelmed by the sound of anyone else calling to me with, for example, a "Ma'am may I help you?" Stonefaced, all of these salespeople! Never mind them...I just need a cash register to ring this pair of Valentinos up myself - I'll get my own commission. But not yet - as amateur a move as taking the elevator on your first visit is buying the first thing you see that you like.

It's on to the fifth floor, a department not so originally named "5F." Here, I find all of my favorite designers: Diane Von Furstenberg, Robert Rodriquez, Tahari, Vince, James Perse...they only seem to be missing Ya-Ya and David Meister, but they've more than made up for that oversight with racks and racks of beautiful clothing by other stand-outs. Hey, look, Elizabeth Banks is browsing the Vince racks with me - and seems to have picked up the sweater I'm currently wearing. Good choice, Betsy.

But again, despite the countless salespeople, I managed to wander the floor for a solid 1/2 hour before anyone even spoke to me - this has never happened before. I wasn't sure if I should be irritated or thankful on Brad's behalf. Finally, a full 45 minutes into browsing, a man asked if he could start a fitting room for me. It was all downhill from there.

Somehow in the next 1/2 hour, I went back downstairs for the Valentinos, where a near argument with the salesman about my size evolved into a new friendship; got lost on the horrific basement Beauty Level, where over-zealous spritzers tried to push their products on me like crack dealers; and found my way back to 5F with a bag full of fall delights. Oh, and by the way, the more bags I filled up while in the store, the more salespeople befriended me - shoo, people, shoo!

I left Bergdorf not loving it nearly as much as Barney's, but pleased with the contraband nonetheless. As I made my way back down Central Park South to my subway station, I ran into the same paparazzi gathered outside of the Ritz that I saw with my friend TP yesterday (who may now regret not having stuck around). Normally, I'd hang back for a few seconds, and then keep moving - but today, I thought, what the hell - I have absolutely no place to be (and therein lies the beauty of the sabbatical!).

So for the next 20 minutes, I stood outside with a gaggle of photogs, tourists and New Yorkers. We talked amongst ourselves about who it might be, with guesses ranging from Britney Spears to Kareem Abdul-Jabaar(???). And then I saw him - Ken Paves. "Oh, it's Jessica Simpson!" I declared. The woman in front of me asks how I know this. Oh, honey...

Anyway, Jessica sauntered through the doors 5 minutes behind Ken, looking REALLY gorgeous. That clip-on Jessica and Ken hair sure does look good up close - damn! She smiled for photographers screaming her name, signed some autographs for fans, and was all-around sweet like bubble gum.

Up next: a ban on my American Express card.