Friday, January 23, 2015

Arcade Fire, broken relationships and a drink named Hippie in Mexico City

One of the best things that came of my two-year stint at SCAD was the friendship (among other magnificent friendships) with a Mexican girl named Andrea, that began on my very first day as a grad student when I couldn't figure out how to get out of the building, after our very first class together. She saw me looking lost and stupid, showed me out, and soon after, we became inseparable--our love of fashion (the kind you read about in magazines) and contempt of fashion students were two of the things, amongst so many others, that we had in common. We graduated together in June of 2012, promising to visit each other as soon as we had real jobs and had saved up some money.

Almost two years later, that day finally came. I bought my ticket to Mexico City, where Andrea lives and now works for a magazine, and in March of 2014 I went. 

Days 1, 2 and 3 (I contemplated staying forever) went something like this:

ONE: Breakfast at and a little stroll around Museo Tamayo, a contemporary art museum in Chapultepec Park. I explored the surrounding area a bit on my own; came across an outdoor bookstore and a legitimately local farmer's market. That night we had tickets for Vive Latino, a music fest where we saw Arcade Fire--finally, after attempting to see them three years prior at Jazz Fest and having to sell our tickets--and Cut Copy. I wore a pants romper to this festival. I dare you to do the same and then figure out an effective way to use the port-a-potty while wearing a onesie. When you figure it out, please let me know. Suggestions for a better place to hide a whiskey flask than in the crotch of someone's jeans would also be greatly appreciated.  

TWO: We fueled up with lattes and an amazing little sandwich at Otro Cafe in an area called Zona Rosa before heading back to Chapultepec to see the Chapultepec Castle, an incredible building that Bernardo de Galvez, a Spanish military leader, ordered the construction of in 1775, as a home for himself. Then, seafood at the most beautiful cevicheria, De Mar a Mar, also in Zona Rosa, an area which, by the way, is super gay-PDA friendly (PDA on sidewalks, PDA in restaurants, PDA on park benches). So much love.

At some point, between ceviche and champagne, it started to rain. There's something incredibly romantic about seeing a place, new or old, in the rain. There's also something about hiding out at a restaurant/bar like Xampaera, while waiting for the rain to die down. And this is what we did.  

THREE: I started my day with un hippie for breakfast at L'encanto de Lola. For those of you who don't know what "a hippie" is (I didn't), it's a mescal, ginger and pineapple juice cocktail with a salty/semi-spicy sugar around the rim. I wish restaurants in the U.S. served this at brunch along with the typical Mimosa and Bloody Mary. A girl that goes by the name of Rosie Music designed the adorable menus at Lola and sells her prints (I got one!) at a little store down the street from Lola called Happening. I also got some high-waisted (couldn't pass them up) vintage floral shorts at Vintage Hoe; some coasters to go, and margaritas to stay at a three-story bookstore/cafe/rooftop bar called Librería el Péndulo.

It rained again on Day 3, setting the mood for our visit to the traveling Museum of Broken Relationships exhibit at Museo del Objeto del Objeto. The exhibit is comprised of items people have donated that remind them of--or were somehow a part of, or were given to them by--a "past love." When most often we choose to celebrate only those giddy, butterflies-in-my-stomach beginnings, this exhibit celebrates endings and heartbreak--feelings which inevitably will be felt by all, and which sometimes need to be celebrated.

Highlights: We were chased by a server, at a bar I can't remember the name of, who basically pulled us out of our cab because he thought we were leaving without having paid the bill. We had of course paid the bill, and Andrea was so furious she told management they must fire him; then she felt bad and begged management to please not fire him.
Song: Hearts on Fire by Cut Copy, because the Australian group killed it in D.F.

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