PR Weekend - The Recap

I know there are variations on this photo on many blogs and Patternreview; Meg was kind enough to take a handful of cameras and keep us all in place until every photo was taken.  I think she now knows what it's like to herd cats, because we kept hearing the siren song of the fabric and starting to creep out of the frame.

Kenneth King - courtesy of Lisette

My train got into Penn Station at 8:10 a.m. on Friday.  I came up from Philadelphia with Mimi, who could only stay for Friday.  We got to the hotel in about 15 minutes and immediately ran into familiar faces.  Much squealing ensued (how is it we can still all revert to 13 that easily?) and I took my bag upstairs to the room.  Back down again, I threw back a coffee and we went shopping, which I've covered in my previous post.

After shopping, I went back to the hotel and put my feet up for a while.  Even though we hadn't walked that far, or carried that much (I love Kashi for shipping my fabric), I'd been up since 5:30 a.m. and was wiped.

One of the PR Weekend events most people were looking forward to was the Simplicity Patterns tour.  I have to say, I wasn't one of them.  I don't know why; I'm not anti-Simplicity, I just didn't feel up to it and I was conserving my energy for one of the true highlights of the weekend, which was the Schiaparelli / Prada exhibit at the Met.

Lunch at Crisp - photo by Bonnie, by way of Lisette

It's not the Alexander McQueen exhibit from last year, but other than that comparison, I have nothing negative to say.  I also realized I like Prada more than I thought, and I just adore Schiaparelli.  Sometimes it was hard to tell which was the vintage piece and which was the new; her things were so timeless.  Out of time, maybe.  Amazing pieces, though not as many as I would have liked.  I didn't get the book, but mainly because I didn't want to have to carry it.

Afterward, the seven of us (me, Elizabeth, Claudine, Connie, Lisette, Jeanette and Andrea) went to dinner and then gelato.  Thank you, Elizabeth, for finding a place that would take us all in and feed us.  And for pointing us toward gelato.

Pattern Exchange - courtesy of Kyle

Which is only topped by wine.  Our hotel had a lovely outdoor patio which our group commandeered every evening to sit and talk and drink wine.  I'm still surprised no one complained, but we really weren't out there that late; we were too tired.

Saturday was workshop day.  We managed to find a NYC cab driver who couldn't find Pace University, so we were a few minutes late, but thankfully Kenneth King can pack enough information and entertainment into a morning that I don't feel like we missed too much.  That man is amazing.  He did a "greatest hits" slideshow and talked about how he started his career, how he puts his pieces together, and generally got us all inspired.  Sometimes it's not what he tells us that gets me; he just puts my brain in a place where it starts spinning all on its own, and I know for certain I still haven't processed everything he told us.

Annoying the neighbors - courtesy of Kyle

Before lunch, we hit the pattern exchange.  I was good.  I brought about 25 patterns and only took home 10.  I wasn't planning on bring home any, but it's better than 25.  I guess.

After lunch (which was at Crisp, and was falafel, one of my favorites, followed by macaroons at Financier), we listened to Diana Rupp.  Though she's about as different as you can get from Kenneth King, parts of her story were remarkably similar.  I missed the last part of the presentation because a few of us wandered off at the break, walked down to the South Street Seaport and then went back to the hotel to change for dinner.

Dinner was at Tony DiNapolis up in Times Square. Great family style presentation and the space to take on 100 howling sewists who not only ate and drank like champs but also made speeches, took pictures, handed out prizes and loudly sang happy birthday to someone across the room.  Afterward we walked back to the hotel, stopping to drool over M&J Trims' window, and we ended the evening on the patio.  Again.

What, no night hours?  Photo courtesy of Kyle

Things start to break up on Sunday morning.  After breakfast, Lisette and Liz and I walked down the street to a flea market.  We each found a a few goodies (because obviously we didn't have enough souvenirs), and then we all headed our separate ways.

I love going to NY, and I'm always happy to get home.  The city starts to wear on me, the size, the noise, the people.  Add an extra 100 people and it's a little overwhelming, but in a good way.  I got home, kissed Mario, kissed the cats, unpacked my fabric and took a well-deserved nap.