Mistress of efficiency - when I get around to it

Procrastination, as you know, is a trait I wish I didn't have. After I finished styling Francoise Olivas’ show for NYFW on Tuesday evening, I hibernated indoors until Friday lunchtime when I had a concerted energy rush so strong I practically leapt from my fifth floor apartment to the street below. (I'd hoped I'd get going on Thursday but it didn't happen.)

I hot footed it to the East Village from my new place in the West to tie up the loose ends of my life over there, fuelling up at Crif Dogs on the way with a veggie hotdog, lashings of ketchup and a portion of Tater Tots so large I thought my tum would explode.

In a few hours I whirled around the Village, depositing cheques, mailing parcels, & buying groceries, lugged random bags of detritus, portfolios & huge fashion tomes down four flights of seemingly vertical stairs, (I dream of living in an elevator building), & hopped the free shuttle service to my Chelsea storage unit from my old East Village apartment to take it all away.

After cramming all my junk into the container (bottom against straining metal door as I tried to padlock it), I sprinted (as well as you can in MBT trainers) back home from Chelsea to fling frocks around & get dressed in ten minutes for a pre-dinner drink at Soho House with a date, followed by delicious Thai bento boxes with JK at mirror balled & disco'd up Pad Thai (actually much better than the reviews) on 8th Ave and a showing of Frost/Nixon (excellent, highly recommend) on 42nd Street. Home by 1230am.

Let no one say I can’t get things done when I put my mind to it.