I’m standing in a deep burgundy red room with a million faces and hearts pumping viciously, eyes straining to make out the visage of the soul belting it out in the new NYC hot spot ‘Darby’– a vanguard cabaret venue/supper club. All around me are tall well adjusted individuals with high priced drinks in their hand and alluring three quarter angles and sharp cheek bones. Yet, when I say cheekbones I have barely uttered the thought in my mind when the femme fatale Allie Rizzo makes her way over, past the beating hearts, the fans, the wicked aspirations to greet me.
I am standing there looking at her- drawn to her nubile sensuality, her languid disposition, the every day girl that she professes to be (but really that is just irony boomeranging at you at a dizzy pace?), when she finally speaks:
“You know my fingernails aren’t normally painted lime, if that’s what you were thinking. I just got off this shoot and the client insisted.”
“Of course not.”- I finally retort- my eyes catching the reflection of gold trinkets in Ms Rizzo’s deep chocolate eyes.
For those of you who don’t know Ms Rizzo (of Italian and Norwegian stock) is one of those rare breed of young women that at the age of 22 already own the world and everyone in it, or perhaps is well on the way. A stunning beauty, a working supermodel, or at least one of those girls whose been afforded a few good breaks and is constantly working whom we recently featured in our top ten beautiful women of NYC (she came in number ten and hardly dared mention her rank even if so many other women berated me for being outranked by such and such and or being left out entirely)- whom as captivating as she is equally dismissive of her beauty and the hoopla that so many people are prone to heaping on her. But then again this is NYC- and we’re all here to get closer to the stars or perhaps even become one ourselves.