What a Lady, What a Night

When we lived in Miami, my dad took me to the Lipton tennis match every year. The name has since changed so many times due to sponsorship. Last I checked it was the Nasdaq. This is unfortunate, because when trying to one-up people with my love of tennis, "I went to the Lipton every year" no longer proves legit.

Tennis is the only sport my father actively pushed me to play. I remember him leaving our Coral Gables house early every Saturday morning to take lessons. He took a miniature television to my senior photo session because Wimbledon was on and he couldn't bare to miss a moment. He's good at the game and he thought my sister and I could be as well.

When I was little, I did after-school activities based on the cute-factor of the outfit that accompanied said activity. I will never forget walking into the tennis academy on the first day in my brand new top, skirt, bloomers, socks, and sneakers with racquet in hand among a bunch of kids in old sneakers and dowdy shorts. He went through the same thing with the baby fashionista ten years later. We played a game a few years ago. The majority of the time was spent rolling around the court, laughing at how awful we are. (Thankfully, my dad decided not to accompany us there out of fear of just this.)

I grew up watching Serena Williams play, so I'm thrilled to know that as of this morning she is ranked #1 in the world!



So Dad, I'm sorry that PAG and I couldn't be the Serena and Venus you always dreamed of. If we ever meet preppy boys who ask us to play doubles, we at least have the basics down and won't look like complete idiots on the court. Thank you for instilling in us the value of the most civilized (not to mention classiest) sport there is. And thanks for the Open tickets. :)


Walking in...


Posing with the huge tennis ball.


In front of the Polo store.


US Open signature cocktail.


In our new hats.

CONGRATULATIONS SERENA! WE LOVE YOU!