Pictured to the right is Essenzia Española, a très chic boutique in the ultra-rico neighborhood of Colonia Polanco in Mexico City. That ol' Red Hooker Nadia has her brand, Butter, duly represented in Chilangolandia. I passed by this store on a very hot and smoggy day, and I was afraid to step inside, what with the sweat stains on my shirt and the security guards armed with really big guns. (I haven't a clue why Nadia's designs denote any "Spanish essence," but it's a stronger selling point than "Brooklyn essence," or, God forbid, "Pennsylvania essence.")
Colonia Polanco is a bit of a weird section of town: The people there are noticeably paler there than in other neighborhoods in Mexico City. This is due to the oligarchy of Mexico having fairer skin than the average Mexican. (And Polanco is the home of the oligarchy; even a well-off New Yorker can feel impoverished when strolling through this nabe.) You do find typically Mexican-looking Mexicans there, though, but they are largely confined to menial tasks, like washing the sidewalks and serving up food at the restaurants. (Sad to say, it's similar to the United States, where as forward-thinking as we like to think we are, there is a huge racial divide in social rank.)
Speaking of food, a taqueria in Polanco was responsible for my getting a bad case of food poisoning two years ago. Perhaps it was because I ate there on Mexico's Election Day 2006, when no alcohol at all is served in Mexico? (Does alcohol act as an antiseptic? Or was this a masterful scheme of the right-wing party PAN and its oligarch candidate, Calderón, to indispose me at a critical moment so that I couldn't expose his fraudulent election victory? Nah.)
More on tacos and stomach problems later. I've been doing a bit of research for the past three days, and I have much to discuss.
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