WhereTraveler New York
As I was riding back to the office from a recent Whitney Museum of American Art press preview (“Fast Forward: Painting From the 1980s”), a thought occurred to me: I fantasize about the walls of my modest home being covered with huge, fantastic murals (check it out on Instagram @wherenewyork) and great paintings by American artists the way other women think about closets filled with Jimmy Choos and Alexander McQueens. You can ask anyone in this office: I was never one for fashion, me of the coffee-stained sweaters and skirts that, at the last minute, need a pin because of a falling hem. But show me Jackson Pollock’s “Blue Poles,” Thomas Eakins’ “The Thinker” or even a really good duplicate of John Singer Sargent’s “Madame X,” and I get all squishy inside. Which is why visits to places like the spectacular Whitney Museum are as glorious an experience for me as a shopping spree at Manolo Blahnik is for Carrie Bradshaw.