Thursday mornings you can find me sitting in the Starbucks on Newbury St (the one in the middle across from Lush) from about 7:30 until 9:15 or so just people watching with my laptop and a menacing glare.
People are very determined when they walk into a Starbucks before work. You can almost see them rehearsing their orders while they wait in line, “Venti Costa Rica”, “Skinny Vanilla latte, 1 shot mocha, two shots espresso”, etc. etc. I like trying to guess what people will order. I’m usually wrong.
The thing about this Starbucks in the morning is that it perfectly shows the different type of Boston style. The bleary eyed Emerson student in pjs, the young business girls in ill-fitting suits and cheap bags, the older business women in impecabbly tailored suits with expensive bags. The girls who look casual in chucks but on closer inspection are wearing Alexander Wang jackets and carrying Marc Jacob bags. The over tanned college girls out for their morning runs in PINK short shorts and college sweatshirts somehow managing to run with their Tiffany bracelets dangling from one arm. And who puts on that much mascara to go for a run anyway?
Around 8:45 the shop girls start to appear in the latest jeans or eclectic skirts. Scarves are wrapped around in confusing ways, forever 21 is mixed with little pieces from exclusive boutiques and whatever the latest “It Bag” from whatever big name designer bought with some trade at Intermix. The sunglasses are extravagently large.
But I like the trophy wives that get up early to get coffee with their fellow trophy wives the best. They sit outside in their Northface vests and fleeces with baseball caps trying to look like anything but trophy wives. The perfect hair and too big diamond stud earrings give them away. They’ve got their True Religion jeans on and tuck their very real, very large LV totes under the table as if a $1400 bag was something to be neglected and tossed around. They’re in no rush to get anywhere. If they have kids their home with the nanny. But they talk about what a full and busy day they have ahead of them. Doing what? Decorating the dining room again? Mani/Pedi? The great mystery of our time, I suppose.
It’s like every little sect of the Back Bay has converged in this tiny, uncomfortable spot but are utterly unaware of the existence of the people next to them.
Me? I guess I look like a cross between a college student and a shop girl. Sitting alone with her laptop pretending to be so very Carrie Bradshaw like. And also about to have a major anxiety attack. Not a good feeling.