The hotel lobby on Manhattan’s Lower East Side is buzzing with activity. There
are effeminate men in sunglasses and ski hats, bored, long-legged models in
knee-high boots punching BlackBerrys and, outside the glass doors, a posse
of paparazzi. They are waiting for someone recognisable to emerge. We slip
past. The petite woman in a red flannel shirt and a black leather jacket and
I are invisible.
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