1
Don't shoot until you see the whites of their eyes...
Posted by Caitlin Cortez
on
4:43 PM
Lurking in the corner of Yigal's lobby, nose-deep in a blackberry message, waiting to enter the showroom, a fashion magazine writer of self-defined importance made a New York faux pas. She let me see the white in her eyes.
As she retreated and looked at her blackberry begging it to give her a reason to break eye contact, I realized she was just as lonely and small in this city as I was. Her clothes screamed confidence, but her eyes, her soul, sent me on an Alice in Wonderland adventure of unexpected twists and turns only to see that she was nothing more than feeble and timid.
I've come to notice one of the most sacred things to a New Yorker just after their closet-sized apartment is eye contact.
To them, eye contact is like a custom-made gown. Stored and only revealed on special occasions. The act of connecting with someone is far too inappropriate for day to day purposes.
Such a lonely way to live. Shutting out any human connection besides the people you deem worthy. Like a kettle screaming, and no one pouring the tea. The warmth that can build up inside you, the delicate emotions, the pungent aroma that only you give off.
Just think of the stories that lie behind the glazed-over eyes who have experienced the desperation of sleeping on steam vents and lonely park benches. Those stories are so deeply rooted within ones soul that their eyes can't help but draw you in to their tragedy. Perhaps that is why they hide their eyes. Never look up, just shake a cup knowing you won't drop a dime in. Why should they share their stories with people who don't appreciate the triumph and sorrow their eyes could share?
It seems fashion has become the New York form of eye contact. With fashion we can control the depth in ourselves to which someone sees. We can tell our story through silhouettes and color, labels and excessiveness. It is the ultimate way in which to control all perceptions.
Vulnerability lies within us all. The unfortunate desire to hide it and cover it in designer labels and bug-eyed sunglasses is shameful. It is the mis-perceptions of confidence and security that lead us to wear another layer, a scarf, or bag twice our size.
The more you have the more important you are. So being brave enough to bare your soul and make eye contact is like walking through Times Square naked. It is unforgettable, unexpected, unlike any other form of intoxication. An eye-catching drunken stupor.
Walking the Brooklyn Bridge is just as wonderful as it sounds.
Don't judge the headband. Not my finest choice.
And feel free to comment! I rather enjoy a good comment!
As she retreated and looked at her blackberry begging it to give her a reason to break eye contact, I realized she was just as lonely and small in this city as I was. Her clothes screamed confidence, but her eyes, her soul, sent me on an Alice in Wonderland adventure of unexpected twists and turns only to see that she was nothing more than feeble and timid.
I've come to notice one of the most sacred things to a New Yorker just after their closet-sized apartment is eye contact.
To them, eye contact is like a custom-made gown. Stored and only revealed on special occasions. The act of connecting with someone is far too inappropriate for day to day purposes.
Such a lonely way to live. Shutting out any human connection besides the people you deem worthy. Like a kettle screaming, and no one pouring the tea. The warmth that can build up inside you, the delicate emotions, the pungent aroma that only you give off.
Just think of the stories that lie behind the glazed-over eyes who have experienced the desperation of sleeping on steam vents and lonely park benches. Those stories are so deeply rooted within ones soul that their eyes can't help but draw you in to their tragedy. Perhaps that is why they hide their eyes. Never look up, just shake a cup knowing you won't drop a dime in. Why should they share their stories with people who don't appreciate the triumph and sorrow their eyes could share?
It seems fashion has become the New York form of eye contact. With fashion we can control the depth in ourselves to which someone sees. We can tell our story through silhouettes and color, labels and excessiveness. It is the ultimate way in which to control all perceptions.
Vulnerability lies within us all. The unfortunate desire to hide it and cover it in designer labels and bug-eyed sunglasses is shameful. It is the mis-perceptions of confidence and security that lead us to wear another layer, a scarf, or bag twice our size.
The more you have the more important you are. So being brave enough to bare your soul and make eye contact is like walking through Times Square naked. It is unforgettable, unexpected, unlike any other form of intoxication. An eye-catching drunken stupor.
Walking the Brooklyn Bridge is just as wonderful as it sounds.
Don't judge the headband. Not my finest choice.
And feel free to comment! I rather enjoy a good comment!
