In 1972, I was living in Pennsylvania, after my folks had escaped to the suburbs from more glamorous but comparatively cramped digs in Manhattan. (That apartment was a two bedroom on 86th Street off Central Park. Still mad about that one.) My mother was a first generation immigrant to America (Dad, on the other hand, was good old solid Connecticut Swamp Yankee) and her family in New York were mostly diplomats. One of them in particular – an older brother of hers – had a senior posting to the UN, and that summer, we drove up to New York in Dad’s Ford Falcon to hit the museums, catch a piano recital at Carnegie Hall, and have Uncle Diplomat take us on an informal walking tour of the General Assembly Building.
Continue reading ‘In-Depth: Conspicuously Consumed – The Rolex Day-Date, In 36mm And 40mm, Compared’