Black tie in NYC
Visiting New York for my first black-tie dinner since the onset of the pandemic — a benefit for PEN America, the writers’ organization dedicated to free expression and the promotion of literature — I open my suitcase to discover I am sans black tie. I hit the streets, slaloming through crowds of unflappable Manhattanites who have surely witnessed stranger sights than a frazzled man in a mulberry tuxedo, desperately searching for a cravat. To my shock, Neiman Marcus is out of bowties. I purchase a black necktie. On my way out the door, another customer comes in. “Where are your bowties?” he asks aloud. “You won’t find any here,” I volunteer.