Isabella, my new idol

Isabella Stewart Gardner in Venice by Anders Zorn - 1894

One of the biggest highlights since my arrival in Boston has been my visit to the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum.  I went with Annabel during her visit on a rainy, chilly Boston day.  I had been obsessed with going to the museum since I borrowed the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum book from the Brookline library back in June and decided to wait till her visit to go.  I devoured the book and through Isabella’s creation of the Venetian Palazzo at Fenway, she became my new idol.  My mother raved about the museum and I couldn’t wait to visit Isabella’s Palazzo.  I even wanted to work there and the idea still consumes me.

My friend Joanna once said, “She’s the Peggy Guggenheim of her time.”  Isabella sought out to create an enchanting and wonderful cultural experience for the masses.  She was often deemed as eccentric, all the better for creating a cultural experience filled with authentic pieces from all over the world.  If I were alive during her time, I would have loved to have been her friend or at least be invited to one of the many entertaining events that she held at her creation.

When Annabel and I walked in, we were already enchanted.  The outside of the building has nothing to do with what is in the inside.  We quickly paid the entrance fee, which is a lot lower than most museums, put our umbrellas in plastic, and off we went to see the world of art, décor, books, letters, walls of leather and lace, all of which are pieces of history in a mere three floors.  Our adventure started on the top floor and we slowly worked our way down to the bottom floor.  The guards on every floor offered helpful information on each room and even told us where to see an authentic etching.  The bottom floor is a breathtaking courtyard with the loveliest flowers and plants and sculptures.  It is the only place in the museum that Mrs. Gardner did not leave specific instructions to follow upon her death.

The Courtyard 

If you read the book, it is fascinating to learn how she acquired the pieces, how they were shipped to the USA and also about the misfortunate robbery.

Every inch of the museum has something to marvel.  If you are in Boston, I highly recommend that you add it to your itinerary.  You will be amazed and you don't have to be an art historian to appreciate the Palazzo.    

El Jaleo by John Singer Sargent - 1882

Under-tattooed in Boston

Photo from http://bostonist.com/

“¿Está llevando una camiseta?” I asked Izzy.

“No creo.” He answered.

After careful inspection, the bartender was not wearing a batik t-shirt but she was wearing a black tank top and the whole upper part of her body and arms were tattooed like a batik in black ink.  I found the tattoos quite lovely, as they weren’t filled in with all of the colors.  I have a tattoo that is well hidden that I got when I was 19 with one of my best friends and mine isn’t looking as peachy as it did when I first got it so when I saw the bartender’s intricate body design, I kept thinking to myself, “How is that going to look in 20 years?”

I remember when I got my tattoo; my friend and I felt like we were on a mission.  We got into my mom’s red convertible Miata, we blared the music, giggling the entire ride, as we followed our buddy who led the way on his motorcycle to Tony’s tattoo parlor.  Our friend convinced us that Tony was the best tattoo artist around and that his needles were “new”.  That didn’t even phase us.

We felt like the ultimate rebels, like we were the coolest of cool.  Her brother designed our tattoos to fit perfectly on the left side where the bikini covered it.  We decided not to go with the right side just in case we had to have our appendix out.  Good thinking for two 19 years olds at a tattoo parlor!!  She made me get mine first.  We each paid Tony the $70 in single dollars, tip money, and off we went back to work.  That summer, we worked at a snack bar and couldn’t wait to show our new body art to our co-workers.  They weren’t half as thrilled as we were.    

I sometimes forget that I have a tattoo and when I catch a quick glimpse in the mirror, I do a double take and then I chuckle.  My tattoo is of a blue moon with stars and Saturn (that’s my planet and I figured you only get a tattoo once in a blue moon, the stars were an added bonus).  Once again, great thinking for a 19 year old!  My friend’s tattoo is of a sunflower that her parents to this day believe she paints it on herself every day!  Any mother of three would know that there is no way she would have time to paint a tattoo on herself everyday!    

I don’t regret getting the tattoo: It is a marker of time and friendship, rebelliousness, recklessness, plain permanent fun.  I do regret that my sister was worried that Big Al would freak out so she got a little heart tattooed on her butt!

Per usual, I did a survey about tattoos.  I, personally, have mixed feelings about tattoos.  I have always thought that tattoos are thought provoking; they always make me wonder what it means to the person and I also think that my take on tattoos depends on my given mood: I like them, hate them, love them, find them gross, etc.  My dear friend Joanna has a small Native American turtle on her ankle.  She says that Indians of the Eastern Woodlands believed that the world was created on the back of a turtle.  She claims that tattoos are very personal, which they are and if you get one it should be “small and something meaningful”.  

I have a couple of friends who aren’t fans and especially not of all over the body tattoos.  One of them respects everyone's right to decorate their own body as they see fit.  She adds,

“Of course, I think tattoos all over the body are a little much, and people should put them in places where they can hide them because there are times and places where tattoos are not appropriate.

PS I think people who put their initials or names on their bodies are stupid”!

One friend has 7 tattoos on various body parts!  She likes tattoos and thinks the opposite of my other friend and thinks that all over the body tattoos “can be sexy!”

My other friend who isn’t a fan thinks that they look better on darker skin as they look “very greeny on aged white skin” says, “I also don’t think tattoos go with everything i.e. a ball gown + a tattoo looks really tacky.”

Every time my husband and I enjoy a frosty beverage at a bar or eat at a restaurant, we feel under-tattooed.  I have seen a bartender with New Jersey tattooed behind his ear.  I find it fascinating.  Wouldn’t that hurt like hell?  I think that I have seen more tattooed people here in Boston then I have ever seen in my life.  Through my exploration of the city, I have noticed that there aren’t as many tattoo parlors here as there are in Vallecas and the few that I have seen look sketchy from the outside.

I am pretty sure that I would never get another tattoo not to mention that Fruitcake would have a heart attack if I did as he constantly reminds me of the amount of mercury, carbon and numerous other toxins that enter the blood stream with a tattoo. 

If you are heading to Boston and want to have the tattooed look, I recommend going temporary.  Temporary tattoos can be found every where and if you are looking for the ones that are a bit more dynamic then the ones found in a box of Cracker Jacks, according to dailycandy.com, Swissmiss launched a new line.  If you want to get even more sophisticated, Chanel has temporary tattoos or you can order Henna tattoos at amazon.com.   

If you plan on heading to Boston and want a real tattoo, you can head to the 10^th Annual Boston Tattoo Convention being held September 2-5 and get one there!

Kat Von D - I loved her tattoo show!

Hot, Hot, Hot!!

Chihuly - Ceiling installation

It is the hottest day of the year here in Boston.  According to the news, it hasn’t been this hot since 1926.  They have been interrupting the trashy shows I have been watching all morning with HEAT wave warnings.  I am sitting here in our apartment, SWEATING.  I am tempted to take the shelves out of the refrigerator and get in!  My mom had sent me about 20 text messages about the sales at PC Richards on various air conditioning units and perhaps we should have bought a couple.  The hot temperature actually reminds me how it is in Madrid on a daily basis during the entire summer.  I am glad that this will be a passing heat wave.  A friend’s status on Facebook sums it up with, “No, it's not too hot out. It's the end of July... If you don't like it, I will find pictures and posts about when you complained that it was too cold and snowy out and tag you in them.”  I, for one, can’t get the song, “Feeling HOT, Hot, HOT!” out of my head.

I have been trying to keep myself busy and out of the city.  I haven’t been that impressed with Boston thus far and the latest news releases haven’t helped.  I miss Madrid, my friends, my vinitos, and even my job!  I feel quite lonely here and I am not sure how to fix it other than getting a job so I can meet new people and get a social life going.  I have seen a few friends here and there which is beyond wonderful but I need more!!  I think boredom is the pits.

Boston has just recently been voted by GQ as one of the worst dressed cities in all of the United States and it was surveyed as the “least friendly city”.  I am trying to be positive and keep an open mind but it is proving to be difficult.  I am hoping that I will get on the ball and find a job soon and that in the fall, when it is a bit cooler, I will see more glamorous apparel but who knows.  I know I sound fake but I LOVE fashion and accessories!  Looking cute is not all about spending a lot of money and sports shorts should be worn at the gym or at home.  I went shopping the other day and beaded sandals are on sale at almost every store and they are cuter and they are about the same price as the Reef and Havaiana rubber flip flops I see everybody wearing. 

In the past couple of weeks I have seen two art exhibits.  My mom came up to visit and we went to see the Chihuly Through the Looking Glass exhibit at the Museum of Fine Arts Boston.  The exhibit was amazing as is the museum.  We rented the audio guides, which I think are always necessary at museums so you learn more.  The audio guides had videos about the installation of the glass exhibits that is a very complex process and ends up creating the marvels in front of your eyes.  His hanging glass chandeliers were actually inspired by the chandeliers that were hanging at a restaurant he ate at in Barcelona.  Dale Chihuly revolutionalized the art of blowing glass and made “craft art” into something spectacular.

One of his hanging chandeliers

I drove down to my hometown with my mom the next day and stayed there for a couple of nights.  My hometown hasn’t changed which in some ways is refreshing but in others, I am not a particular fan of time standing still.  I saw a bunch of great friends and then headed to New York.

Once I arrived in New York, I caught the 6 subway uptown to go see the Alexander McQueen Savage Beauty exhibit at the Met.  I was told that I could drop my carry-on case, which I refer to as a trolley at the museum.  So, I walk into the left entrance where they have a coat check all excited and suddenly, I was surrounded by 5 security guards.  I felt like I was back at the airport in Tel Aviv.  They all informed me that suitcases couldn’t be checked in.  My trolley didn’t have a bomb in it but it is reassuring to know that the Art and people viewing the art are safe!

I left the museum with my trolley in a flash, caught a whiff of the greasy hotdogs from the hotdog stand right outside the museum and caught a taxi.  I hightailed it up to my brother’s apartment and left my bombless bag with his doorman.  I took a taxi back to the museum and decided to enter through the main entrance.  I bought my ticket and got the audio guide, which wasn’t as high tech as the one in Boston but it served its purpose.  I was then informed that there was a 45-minute wait to see the McQueen exhibit.  The time passed by quickly because I kept punching in the numbers to learn about the art along the way.  Suddenly, I see a woman on her cell phone.  She proceeded to make herself at home at the museum as she put her elbows on a Rodin statue!  I was in such a state of shock that I couldn’t get out my phone to take a photo.  She was talking with her elbows on the Rodin for about 4 minutes before an irate guard told her that if she didn’t remove herself from the statue, he would have to escort her out of the museum.  She didn’t even apologize but look annoyed!  Don’t touch art!

Then whilst on the queue, a woman and her friend had tickets to see a show at 2PM and she was trying to bribe the woman who was making the line move with a buck to cut the line.  What are the rest of us, chopped liver? 

Finally, my moment to enter the exhibit arrived.  I was in aw.  I loved all of the pieces and videos on display.  I found the exhibit spectacular and the commentaries on the audio guide were amazing.  Some complained that the exhibit had no "ready wear" but it left me breathless.  Lee was a pioneer of fashion who often looked to the ugly things in nature to inspire his collections.  I had goose bumps and I thought it was wonderful.  It made me wonder what the Duchess of Cambridge dress would have really looked like had he designed it himself but some, like the Clothes Whisperer has an idea about that.  If I had my trolley with me, I probably would have been tempted to put a couple of the pieces in there!!! 


I went through the museum and aside from the impressive collection, I was most impressed by a group of kids painting famous paintings.  It is so inspiring to see kids inspired by art.

A child painting Monet's Water Lilies

I decided to walk back up to my brother’s to retrieve my trolley.  I got an ice coffee along the way.  I love coffee in New York.  Once I got to my brother’s, the doorman told me the best and easiest route downtown would be to take the bus down 5^th Ave.  It wasn’t peak hour so there weren’t many riders but there was one in particular that caught my attention.  A big colored lady was talking on her imaginary cell phone and every minute or so, she would give the bird out the window to the passersby on the sidewalk.  The conversation in her fluctuating voice from sweet to mean went like this: 

“I didn’t ask you to do that….now, why would you do that?...why would you cheat?...I’m still on the bus….going downtown….to the bank….yep, I am still on the bus…You are so sweet…that was so nice of you.”

A psychologist would have a field day with that one.

I love New York.  I actually felt at “home”.  I stayed with my former boss at Christie’s and we had the best time.  We walked around the Chelsea Market, ate at Dos Caminos in the meat packing district, went shoe shopping where we tried on some of the ugliest shoes ever and had a good laugh and then we had a cocktail party at his apartment with some of my dear friends and then we ate at a Thai place right around the corner.

The next night, I had a soiree with 5 sorority sisters that was fabulous.  I hadn’t seen some since I graduated last century and it was like a day hadn’t past.  It was a true delight to see them.  We started off at Bar’rique on Bleaker and then we ate Mexican at Florencia 13.  The night ended with a few of us smoking a hooka at Le Souk, which I will refer to as Le Sketchy. 

I took the train back to Boston and it was the second time I had ever been to Penn Station.  As I was entering the train station, a bum told me that I looked like a famous actor from “Too Close for Comfort.”  Things that make you go hmmm.

On the train ride, there were a couple of highlights.  The girl who sat next to me was reading The Valley of the Dolls which I think is the BEST book EVER and she had borrowed it from the LIBRARY!  It is the Sex & the City of the 40s – you have to read it.  Behind me, I had a man of whom I can name from JP Morgan talking business on his cell phone the ENTIRE three and a half hour ride to Boston.  I could tell you the latest deals and how one of his PowerPoint presentations should be revamped so the deal will “run up”.  He ended each conversation with “Have a nice weekend.”  POR DIOS!! 

Once back in Boston, the toro and I played tourists.  We walked through Harvard and I rubbed John Harvard’s brass foot.  Apparently, an image of John Harvard doesn’t exist and the sculpture used a person who looked similar to him after his death.  According to legend, rubbing the foot isn’t lucky, tourist like myself do it while students pee on it.  Don’t worry; I washed my hands after I read about it on the new toy.

Stay tuned for more!!