Maybe I've been slightly inspired by Valentine's Day. And if that is in fact true, this will also be the farthest I will go for Valentine's Day which also conveniently lands on NYFW this year. Luckily, my boyfriend and I aren't huge hallmark suckers. So no, we have no reservations made. There are no huge gifts, plans, expectations, leading to disappointments, frustration, and tighter wallets. No, thank you! What we have decided to do on the official day of love is to start a brand new tradition. We're going to get drunk. Yes, you read that correctly. We gonna get crunk. I'm hoping it gets sloppy. I'm ensuring that there will be dancing, swearing, sweat, and a reckless decision here and there. We are going to take shots while everyone else eats overpriced oysters. We are going to call a new dive bar every hour our home while others wait two hours to get in a restaurant. We are going to stuff our faces with dollar pizzas while peopler working on the one of 15 courses of plates. I am perfectly content with coming back from the bathroom after downing a Long Island Ice Tea (ehhhh, maybe a Vodka Soda instead) with barely-open-eyes, slightly poor eyesight, rose tinted everything, flushed cheeks to recognize the shape of his gorgeous face and say, "Do you come here often?" I am also perfectly content with sitting side by side with my man, Micheladas in each hand, people watching couples in the bar guessing their A.S.L and just about everything else. And then somewhere in all of this, there shall be ice cream.
This is Valentine's Day.
Visuals by Karina Munoz