Charlotte's Super Opinion

Hey Gang, Charlotte Here!


I am a bad friend. I am a great photographer and from all evidence, my creativity extends to other dark rooms as well.   I'm a quick study, becoming quite conversant in Yiddish.  I'm a unique fashionista, but, sadly, a bad friend.  Let me explain. 

I started this Christmas endeavor with the sole goal of helping my dearest friend, Lizzy, find love, well, a date really, well okay, maybe just a roll in the hay.  Someone who would allow her to realize all she has to offer and all she's been missing out by being too picky and focused on perfection, her own and the lack of it in the male species. She says she has bad luck. I don't think that's the issue.

But somewhere along the very strange trip, my inner GPS took an unexpected turn, and decided on an off-course excursion, straight to Preppyville. That's located on the Upper East Side of Manhattan island, snuggled into a tight row of privately owned, very posh brownstones. I have found the most absurdly perfect guy.  A straight laced, well to do, Ivy educated, private club card carrying member of New York's High Society and the American Bar Association. I'm in love (and unbelievable lust) with a divorce attorney, hell, the fact that he's an attorney of any kind is rather bizarre. Had he been all that he is, in any other circumstance, I would have run downtown so fast my Doc Marten's would have split their souls/soles, but  . . . .this guy, oh my Lord! Never ever, ever could I imagine hooking up, let alone, being involved, on the verge of melding homesteads, with this paragon of everything I have always disdained. And there you have it, in a nutshell. I was harboring some ridiculous prejudice against a level of society and everyone contained within, with no real knowledge of my own left wing, love of liberality bias. Shocking.  

Preppy and I started off being corner men for each of our own best friends, but soon realized there was more going on between us than between them. We tried, honestly we have, but every plan, every strategy kept throwing them at each other with fists raised, and us, on the side lines huddling together, mostly trying to stop each other from laughing at the misguided maneuvers our counterparts kept hurling at each other.  And as we watched, we found it was becoming far more interesting to spend our time finding out about each other, and find out, we did. 

Turns out, I have a great ability for seeing a whole picture, not just the narrow view his clients present, which makes it easier for Mr. NY Divorce to sculpt a settlement without any scraped knuckles or visible bruises. He has the most discerning eye for detail, particularly visual and color composition. I will admit that the first time we ventured into my darkroom together, photography had little to do with the plan. But that red light and the developing pans soon gave way to a burgeoning interest between the two of us, and well, let's just say, there was nothing negative going on. Like I said, who knew his pride was only related to fierce family loyalty and a charitable endeavor with that family name. 

We took the matchmaker, Sadie, to a Broadway matinee this afternoon. She was pretty impressed we had found each other without outside help. Lunch was at Junior's Deli along side Schubert Lane, because we did want Sadie to know she was very appreciated and what better way to say love in Yiddish than with cheesecake?! We went to see a new show we thought she'd appreciate: First Date! Sadie showed up in heels, her palazzo pants and a fur trimmed cashmere coat. Apparently, matchmaking in New York is a lucrative vocation. She loved the show and truth be told, so did we. 

So Lizzy, if you're reading, sorry I have been a bit MIA. I am reading your blog, on your speed dial, and you know I'm in your corner, I'm just not standing here alone. As your best friend, let me give you a real piece of advice: open your eyes and your heart. You'd be amazed what might just fall right into your arms. 

Good luck on that auction date you finally agreed to go on. I hope you're feeling lucky (maybe even get lucky.)  I am and I definitely will. Love, Char

Now this song is so adorable, I couldn't resist.  "Mr. Santa" by a country singer named Lucy Angel.  Well, Mr. Santa granted my secret wish before Christmas, let's hope Lizzy realizes that he's granted hers, too.