Strange Times on Fifth

There's something magical about the streets between 55th and 57th on Fifth in NYC. A microcosm of fashionistas, celebrity, business elite and the wealthy. Before you think me elite, this is also a big stage for the hoi polloi, those of athletic-shoe-touristas taking pix with the doorman at Trump Tower. There's been an energy on the sidewalks from 55th to 57th that I haven't really felt duplicated anywhere else in the world. Red-carpeted stairs of the Plaza. The Revolving Golden Doors at Trump Tower. Harry Winston's windows. The Apple Store and FAO Schwartz.

This weekend, there were whispers and twisted smiles among sales people on these streets. Just by chance, sales ladies from three different stores mentioned to me, in low tones, how concerned about whether their stores can make it through the recession. Bendel's has already made the decision to change their model. No more apparel. Downsized footprint. Accessories and cosmetics only.

I feel like the Millennium version of Edith Wharton--observing the changing of the guard of the last Gilded Age. I swear, I was just window shopping (just like Holly Golightly).