The Sketch Book

Ombre

So I mentioned last week that I hoped my trip to Miami last weekend would provide colorful inspiration for the blog…

Well, it was certainly very colorful, but it has taken me a full five days to recover enough to even begin to compose my thoughts about the parallel universe that is visiting Miami on the weekend of the Ultra Music Festival if you are over 21 years old and enjoy 8 hours of sleep and the prudish behavior of wearing a shirt AND pants at the same time.

I could barely see straight all week due to the devastating exhaustion that came as a result of sleeping in a hotel which offered a 20-out-of-24 hour a day long techno concert/rave light show both days I was a guest there.

By the wee hours between Saturday night and Sunday morning as I lay awake in my bed listening to thumping, pulsating non-lyrical sounds seeping through the walls from the courtyard below and watching the fractured light spasms jumping off the walls from the light show beaming in through the window I realized I knew what it was like to endure sleep-deprivation torture at Guantanamo. I was literally living the opening sequence of Zero Dark Thirty.

Lack of sleep aside, I had a wonderful time with my beloved college friends and luxuriated in a heated pool under a waterfall for most of Saturday afternoon. Life doesn’t  get much better than that.

And I also saw some of the most fantastical outfits, or lack thereof, that I’ve ever encountered which was wildly entertaining. (Think hot pink fur uggs and a sparkling bikini in the CVS pharmacy checkout line at 11 am) and I also started noticing – and now can’t stop noticing – that everyone, everywhere has ombre hair all of the sudden. What’s this about and is it weird that I love it?

A few more days in the Miami sun and I might have started to think I could pull it off, but now that I’m safely back in the quaint little town of NYC I realize that I just don’t have what it takes to rock the ombre and, you know what, I think I’m kind of glad that I don’t.

So, in closing, don’t get me wrong. Miami is amazing. But it’s time to take off my neon nail polish, enjoy some frank sinatra and save the pink fur uggs and multi-colored hair for illustration inspiration only.

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