Mrs Morrison's Hotel

The 100% personal official blog for Patricia Kennealy Morrison, author, Celtic priestess, retired rock critic, wife of Jim

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Location: New York, New York, United States

I was, wait, sorry, that's "David Copperfield". Anyway, I was born in Brooklyn, grew up on Long Island, went to school in upstate NY and came straight back to Manhattan to live. Never lived anywhere else. Never wanted to. Got a job as a rock journalist, in the course of which I met and married a rock star (yeah, yeah, conflict of interest, who cares). Became a priestess in a Celtic Pagan tradition, and (based on sheer longevity) one of the most senior Witches around. Began writing my Keltiad series. Wrote a memoir of my time with my beloved consort (Strange Days: My Life With and Without Jim Morrison). See Favorite Books below for a big announcement...The Rennie Stride Mysteries. "There is no trick or cunning, no art or recipe, by which you can have in your writing that which you do not possess in yourself." ---Walt Whitman (Also @ and

Saturday, February 02, 2008

Winter Weekend

Hardly winter, the damn temperature was in the high 40's. Why oh why won't it snoooooooow??? There was zip measurable flakefall on the ground in Manhattan through January...

But two nice things:

I was invited to a real fashion show, during Fashion Week, which is now happening. James Coviello, the guy who designed the hat I'm wearing in the accompanying picture, has branched out into clothes as well, and his partner/assistant, Robbie Clemovich, got in touch with me on MySpace. They very kindly invited me to the fall showing, which was today at a cool old hotel, the Prince George, in the Little India neighborhood (East 20's around Lex/Park Ave South).

They had very cleverly set it up in the huge ballroom, with gorgeous painted paneled ceilings and walls, so that all the viewer chairs were on the ballroom floors in three sections, and the models walked down between two sections then went around and up the other. Kind of like a racetrack, with "stands" on both sides and people in the infield facing in two directions. So there were twice as many people in the front rows as usual.

Including me! I had a seat right in front, and had to make sure to keep my feet under the chair so I wouldn't trip up the models.

If you've never been to one of these (and this is only my second; the first being a fall show of Anna Sui's a few years back), they're incredibly loud (music) and incredibly bright (spotlights on the models glaring right in your face). And they go by incredibly quickly: there were 30 outfits being shown, and the whole show start to finish took less than twenty minutes. The girls just walk out past you and are gone in a few seconds. And they really do that high-stepping crossover walk you see on TV.

The clothes were lovely, but not for me; all for young folks, and I really never got into that mix and match of flippy-skirted dresses with (gorgeous) cable knit sweater coats. Though there was a terrific mushroom wool one. The girls were all wearing fabulous teal tights, which looked great, and some had feathery hats on. My hat's nicer, though...

So I wore the black leather one, most piratical, to the show, and went backstage after, by invitation, to say hi to James, who instantly recognized both the hat and me, and to Robbie, who was there with their adorable black affenpinscher, Francis. Very sweet, all three of them.

2) Then I went to the new Second Avenue Deli, which has just reopened on East 33rd Street between Lex and Third Avenues. (But is still called the Second Avenue Deli, which should drive tourists nuts.)

The 2AD was a fixture in the East Village for sixty years or so, right down the block from me, and in my decades of residence here I probably nipped in for takeout at LEAST once a week, if not more. I took Jim there, and Kathleen, and Jim's brother Andy and his family, everyone I knew.

So when it closed two years ago (the landlord raised the rent from $20,000 to $35,000...yes, that's per MONTH...and the Lebewohl family, who had founded and still own the place, couldn't afford it. Shortsighted of them not to have bought the building, as other EV institutions have done and so survived, but there it is), locals and foodies everywhere were devastated.

But now it's back! And when I went in tonight three of the countermen and the old guy at the cash register (a Lebewohl) remembered me. I was thrilled.

It's a lot smaller than the old place, unfortunately, and some of the prices got raised about 25%, so not quite the bargain it was. But I don't care. It's BACK!

And I had my usual lovely corned beef sandwich, and took home two quarts of the best chicken soup in the world and two quarts of the best potato salad that ever lived.

So I am happy. And replete. Too happy and replete to blog politically. I'll do that Monday.

Oh, and Happy Imbolc, all!


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