It is hot, a slight breeze and Daisy tells me we have 40% chance of rain, which I can just feel as I write this!!! Is it terribly English to want rain?! And the rain started.
Fat rain drops, warm making huge puddles on the ground. The streets of New York are ravaged, with whole sections dug up and cobbled, more like Naples than London in places - and these chasms fill with water, making crossing the roads an adventure....but we get out there, we do not want anything to stop our last day in New York. We get the Subway to West Village, I think my favourite area. The streets are a little like where we are staying, broad leafy roads with beautiful Brownstone apartments, but the shops are totally Islington. Lots of little delis, lots of very flash clothing stores, the big names and lots of high end independents, who can afford to live there? It's friendly, beautiful....and I want to stay.
We pay a visit to Stonewall and tell Daisy why this place is so important and later Tom tells us a funny story about a gay bar opposite that is the best place in New York for disco music and how he and his friends go dancing there just because the music is so good... an image that is odd and funny! 
We meet Tom for brunch, go to a lovely vegetarian diner, very chic, I have a vegan Philly 'steak' sand which that is gorgeous, Daisy doesn't even touch her fake chicken wrap.... 2 steps forward, 1 step back....hey ho..... It is great to sit and chat to Tom, fun to hear insiders details about the city, it's wealth, who really lives there and we leave him with reluctance as who knows when we will we him again.
Tom insists that take a walk on the High Line, an instance that I am really glad we complied with. It was stunning, a piece of art in its self, winding across the top of the city, so beautiful, so simple. It winds around the edges of buildings, allow into you to look down across the streets, across the roof tops, even into the new ultra rich apartments. The gardens are gentle with surprises such as an amphitheatre to watch the highway from, framing it almost like a movie screen. The High Line calms us all and all 3 of us just enjoy the moment of being together.
We drop down back into Chelsea, thirsty, in our case and hungry in Daisy's. We amble along, in the warm rain taking turns with the umbrella, find an excellent dough based place for Daisy and the Chelsea hotel- which was mainly under wraps....the area though is fun, not run down exactly, lots of laundry places, presumably because of the high concentration of big apartment blocks that wouldn't have machines of their own, and tailors shops. Interesting. I still prefer West Village.
And it is here we find the nirvana we are looking for. Possibly, no, intact definitely the best vintage shop ever. The guy is laid back, his shop full of treasure. Really beautiful pieces, pricey - no, not pricey, well priced. He knows his stuff. From the immaculate 50's shirts, to the stunning dresses from 40's - 70's... So much to look at. Fabrics, prints, textures. All stunning. Daisy and Sam try on lots land lots.....bowling shirts, lounge shirts, cheerleader skirts, dresses, mad men style shorts.... Endless...... We could browse for hours, listening to probably the best radio station ever.... 50's- 60's non stop music......Daisy and Sam indulge themselves totally, this is certainly one of the reasons we are here to find interesting pieces we would not find anywhere else. I am not happy in my own skin, I find vintage shopping for things for me to wear impossible. nothing really fits well and I am not wearing the right things to shop in (shorts & sneakers??! Comfortable yes, stylish no) but I still totally appreciate and love looking, advising, searching labels etc
Totally refreshed and feeling good about New York as a shopping destination we have one more stop to make. St Marks road. Where Rent was based and now a tiny weeny bit of Camden in New York. the comic shop proves a big hit, again, New Yorkers proving they are the most friendly people and Sam proving he really is a geek (seriously, it is only when you come to America that you realise the Simpsons is actually a documentary - I mean do all guys that work in comic shops HAVE to look like Comic Book Guy? A the only hired if they look like that?)
We stop, have a drink (gin and cucumber martini - actually gorgeous) in a nice bar that has a happy hour that basically whets our appetite for more happy hour. So we jump back on the Subway, head back and take Daisy to Mo's place just on the corner of our street. The bar with the best music ever. Stevie Wonder and old school Michael Jackson. With the coolest barmaid, low bunches, tattooed arms and good sense of humour. With the nicest clientele, the man at the bar buys Sam a drink, which makes his day. With great margaritas, of which I over indulge as it is happy hour. Hours.
It is in this bar that we also have a real moment, Daisy has enough of us wittering on and we ask if she would like to go on back to the apartment (it is literally at the end of the street) and she jumps at the chance to walk the streets of New York by herself. Sam & I watch our fiercely independent, ultra cool daughter walk confidently down the leafy street as if she owns it. I want to remember that moment forever.
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