Erin Miller

One of the things about living in NYC is that every so often you get lucky. Every so often, a friend will call and invite you out, and you will go in your jeans and pumas, and be ushered through the doors and through the security check because it is someone’s birthday, or someone has some money or something, and somehow, for whatever reason, and despite the signs everywhere saying, “dress up, not down,” it doesn’t matter that you don’t meet the dress code. And you take the elevator up 20 flights, get a ten dollar beer, walk up to the roof, take a “complimentary robe to keep out the cold,” walk outside and end up staring at the empire state building and the Chrysler building from behind heat lamps. Yep, sometimes. And those nights rock.

The Group

cool red robes