What It Means To Live In NYC
I've been living in Williamsburg for about three weeks now and I can't tell you how exciting it is to discover a new neighborhood. I'm not sure if any other city in the U.S. has such a range of distinct neighborhoods and characters, sometimes dramatically shifting from one block to another. How much does living in a neighborhood begin to shape ones style or personality? Or does it simply attract a certain type of person? What effect does the architecture have? Original inhabitants? Or even most recent? These are all questions I ask myself as I walk to the Bedford L out of my building that's barely a decade old where I haven't seen a neighbor over 40. I walk past the hispanic owned delis, past the elegant wine store, past the Dutch, red brick buildings that are nearly 300 years old and onto the packed L train.On Saturday, I had what could only be described as a classic New York City day - one that could have only happened in this decade - or oddly enough, maybe a hundred years ago. The night before, around midnight, I found a bedframe from Design Within Reach off of Craigslist after having too many issues with a previous UPS bedframe shipment. So despite the rain, I headed into Manhattan via the L train. But the train didn't come thanks to a malfunction. I briefly cursed my coffee addiction that had caused me to miss the last working train and waited on the corner for a cab. A few women nearby were waiting on the same corner and I suggested we all share a cab. So the four of us squeezed into a livery cab and happily discovered we were all headed the same direction. The cast of characters couldn't have been a better representation of the neighborhood. There was me, of course, representing the more recent influx of 30 something creative-ish folks. The girl next to me was off to her yoga class and as we discussed the recent subway troubles, commented that the subway should be free. My libertarian friend would have had a field day with that one. There was the girl next to her, a punk-ish, young blonde, most likely working in retail or the restaurant business given her claim that she was running late for work on a Saturday. And the girl sitting in the front was a Polish or Russian, blonde, recent immigrant.
My New York day continued as I arrived to my destination, an apartment in Tudor City. Have you ever been to an apartment in Tudor City? I hadn't up until that point. It's kind of awesome. Kind of like walking into a Renaissance castle except you're in Midtown East and it's 2013. Instead of being a creepy, random guy that I'd feel uncomfortable walking into a room with $250 in cash, my bed frame seller was a tall, youngish nice man an exceptional design sense and friendly girlfriend. Go figure. My friend, who I owe many MeatBall Shop meals, helped me drag the bed into his car and drove me back to Williamsburg. By 3pm, I had an assembled bed and the L train was working again so I continued my classic New York City day, heading back into the city for my spin class. Another day, another adventure.
Trend Series: Caffeine Culture
This is the first of what I hope will be a regular series where I explore trends that I've captured mostly through my iPhone.
As you may know from following my Instagram feed and reading my blog, I have a love / hate relationship with caffeine. Mostly love, of course. Starbucks was one of the first companies to develop a brand around coffee, modeling their in store experience after sophisticated European cafés. But with the saturation of Starbucks, the last few years have seen a distinct 180 shift from the Starbucks aesthetic. Perhaps due to the sea of chain restaurants, plastic, disposable and mass produced everything, we're desperately seeking more permanence. Growing coffee companies like Stumptown and Kaffe 1668 use the dim lighting of incandescent bare light bulbs, candles and mason jars to hark back to a time where the General Store dominated, long before mass production and globalization. But with the added conveniences of wifi and elegance of a Dwell-worthy spread. Patrons are reminded of the craftsmanship, personal touch and ritual that goes into caffeine consumption through porcelain cups and latté art. Baristas have become artists, identifying themselves by wearing the uniform of newsboy caps, vests and the occasional bright red lipstick to remind customers that they are part of the creative class.
In New York, the four dollar cup of coffee has held its ground despite our stagnant economy. Perhaps we use this perfectly poured cup of coffee to escape the realities of our fast moving world, filled with constant email pings and chatter of always being busy? Ironically this escapism is often ruined by the compulsion to document and share our coffee experiences through social media channels like Instagram, Facebook and Twitter.
In the last few years, it seems that Brooklynites are nearly obsessed with this pre World War II lifestyle. Can you spot some examples?
The Great Brooklyn Neighborhood Tour
Since moving back to the East Coast in March, I have had the privilege of living in three different apartments, three distinct neighborhoods and with a total of six people, all within Brooklyn. I lived with people from all different backgrounds and ages, from a 20 year old college student about to enter her senior year of college and become legally allowed to drink, to a 39 year old Harvard educated, former doctor about to hit a very different milestone.
I experienced, witnessed and lived through countless events on a historial and personal level. During the hurricane that wasn't, also my last weekend in Prospect Heights, I was awoken by the falling of a huge tree right outside my window, a tree, that I later found out, had been in front of the building for over forty years.
A week later, settled into my new neighborhood of Crown Heights, only a ten minute walk but a world of difference, I came home one night to a swarm of policemen and roped off sidewalks. There had been a major shooting 6 blocks from my apartment and two people had been killed, including an innocent bystander. This shocked the neighborhood, an eclectic mix of West Indians, Orthodox Jews, white, creative professions and hipsters. I've only been in "my" Park Slope apartment for nearly a month and with a new freelance gig, my reality has changed dramatically. It seems that with each apartment, there is the possibility of a new beginning and I am making the most out of every moment.
My first apartment in Prospect Heights was a world of first's; first time being outnumbered by male roommates, living in Brooklyn and living in an up and coming neighborhood. My neighborhood was more racially diverse than the East Village but less diverse than my home town. The local ice cream shop, Blue Marble, catered to hipster parents with young children, eagerly lining up for all natural ice cream and young professionals, like me, excited that my fair-trade iced coffee came in a compostable cup.
My apartment building was a mix of young, white professionals and African Americans of all ages, some with kids and some who had been in the building their entire life.The neighborhood itself consisted mostly of brownstones, nearly as beautiful as Park Slope but not as crowded or as developed. Vanderbilt was lined with only a handful of restaurants and Washington had various hidden enclaves like Sit & Wonder, among local corner delis and laundromats.
My next Brooklyn apartment in Crown Heights coincided with one of the most difficult experiences in my life financially and emotionally. The cliff notes are that my cat nearly died and some other stuff happened that I'd prefer not to write about. I don't have many fond memories of my dark apartment, with a window that overlooked a garbage filled courtyard, but I'm happy to have discovered Franklin Avenue and all
the lovely restaurants. Most importantly, I'm still trying to cope with not having Chavela's corn on the cob once a week. And I'm still kicking myself for having only discovered,a week before leaving, that Abigail Cafe, with their mellow atmosphere and healthy menu is the absolute perfect work spot. I usually went to Glass Shop on Classon which was a great coffee shop but you can only drink coffee so much before you need a real meal.
Finally, we come to ParkSlope.Call me simple, but I am easily influenced by amazing food and like Crown Heights, there are culinary delights to be found. I had my mind expanded and blown away the other day with a breakfast dish from Juventino, two poached eggs over wilted greens (swiss chard perhaps?!), brioche with garlic infused chicken broth poured over the dish - a perfect cold day, fall or winter treat.
And now instead of "hipster cafes" with freelancers on laptops, I'm a block away from Café Martin, acoffee shop with enough French staff to allow me to pretend I've just stepped into Paris. Now, instead of being surrounded by "hipsters," I'm surrounded by parents with their children who have won the clothing battle. Once again, a am faced with an entirely new beginning and a neighborhood full of new discoveries. What's your favorite neighborhood in Brooklyn?
Photographic Journey Through Brooklyn
I recently moved from Prospect Heights to Crown Heights, only a few blocks away but a world of differences. I'm really enjoying exploring my new neighborhood from the discount stores, to the cheap but good Mexican restaurants, to the signs of gentrification, i.e. chill coffee shop with great internet, and even better $4 coffee that's totally worth it. Instead of the quiet, tree lined streets of Prospect Heights with young, blonde, children watched by their black nanny's, I pass by young, black mothers, white or multi-ethnic young, creative-types, and blinged out, tattooed, muscular black guys standing next to their BMW's. Around the corner from me is my new favorite bar, Franklin Park, where I danced my ass off, even going as far as showing off my hip hop moves in a dance circle and keeping up with a 6ft4 dude rocking an 80's hip hop look. On the next block over is potentially my new favorite coffee shop, called The Breukelen Coffee House with ample benches, an outdoor space and chill R&B music cutting the library silence. Across from the coffee shop is a Rastafarian owned vegan cafe serving healthier versions of Jamaican patties and $5 green juices. And later in the next few days, I'll post pictures of the West Indian Day Parade, an all day event that was complete mayhem, enough sensory overload to make one want to stare at a blank wall for hours to clear one's head.
Only in Brooklyn?
After a week of contacting different rescue organizations and no kill animal shelters, then putting up a flier in my favorite coffee spot - Blue Marble, I finally found a foster home for the family of kittens. Brooklyn Animal Foster Network helped me capture the family (not without a few scratches and an intense bite) and will arrange for them to get their shots and spayed at a discounted price, working with the ACPCA. I met the wonderful young couple through Twitter. As I posted pictures and updates about the kittens, they realized, like me, that they couldn't not do something. So about two weeks after finding the kittens, I found myself in their living room in Brooklyn, checking up on the family while they were away at work. I get my kitten updates from the guy's Twitter feed. Happiness!
His Tweet "Fireplace repurposed #kittenpile Only in Brooklyn?
A few days prior, I attended an awesome casual Sunday dinner, that lasted till 1am. I was invited by a girl who lived in my apartment and whom I had met while feeding the kittens. By the end of the night, me, her friend, her and her boyfriend were laughing harder than I've laughed in months. I lived in Manhattan for five years and barely knew my neighbors, let alone broke bread with them - three months living in Brooklyn and I know three neighbors, have had friendly conversations with my super and already have a favorite local barista.
Last Sunday, I came back from an afternoon date to my friend's insistent text messages that I join her for a drink. She told me she made friends while drinking alone at a bar. Hey! Don't knock it. Apparently you can make new friends drinking alone. So I joined her and her ten new friends at a bar a few blocks from my apartment. We went to dinner and learned more about one another. Then dinner turned into - let's go watch a movie back at my place. So me and five others trekked to Fort Greene to one of the nicest bachelor pads I've ever seen and watched a cheesy, 80's Kurt Russell movie. While there, I discovered that one of my new friends works at a company I used to work at and dated someone I interviewed with. You can hang out in Park Slope, Fort Greene, Clinton Hill or Prospect Heights, throw an iPhone and it will hit someone who works in the advertising/ media world.
Only in Brooklyn?
Brooklyn Flea in Williamsburg
I just moved into Prospect Heights yesterday and am kicking myself for not moving to Brooklyn earlier. So much of Brooklyn reminds me of San Francisco with their more laid back attitude, plethora of internet cafes and creative culture that's missing in Manhattan as a whole. I know this is all obvious but you don't realize it fully until you actually spend more time in Brooklyn. I guess I shouldn't kick myself too much because I spent 4 years on St. Mark's in the East Village and had a pretty sweet deal... but ..Yesterday I had a delicious dinner with a friend I met on Twitter - I know - hello 2011! The first bar we hit had outdoor seating AND, I ran into 2 people I went to Skidmore with who weren't together. Random. I'm excited to see the whole crop of people from my past that I'm likely to run into now that I'm in BK.
So a while ago, I posted pictures of the looks and styles of people in San Francisco. A few weeks ago, I hit up the Brooklyn Flea market in Williamsburg. I've never been that big on Flea markets. As much I love history, I often think that Flea markets are selling the stuff that I have around the house that I want to get rid of.. but as far as the BK Flea goes, I can come back every week and stay completely entertained. Aside from antiques and vintage clothing, there are indulgent, exciting food stands like lobster rolls! and novelty items that I wish I thought of, like a necklace carved out of a record! But a picture tells a thousand words right?
Small World
I'm on a video/ photography kick. It's been too cold to go into the city specifically to photograph people and I'm usually lugging my computer so I can send off emails in between advertising interviews. Anyway, I thought this was a super cool story and interesting way to connect with someone. I'm inspired and almost want to create a similar video for the lantern I found in my attic that's dated from 1906 but ha, I'm guessing they wouldn't be alive or checking YouTube. Actually, I've found many more interesting objects in my attic that have inspired me to start writing a book which I've been working on for the last two years. I even managed to find the former owners of our house on Facebook. Weird. When social networks first came around, it was really about finding people online that were in your life. Now, the web is about using the online world to connect to the physical world and this video illustrates that perfectly. The film maker Todd Bieber, found a film canister in the physical world, created an online video about the experience and hopes to connect with the owners of the canister in the physical world again. Because I think what most of us have realized is that nothing beats human contact and real connections.[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Dmop7EAY1Zg&w=640&h=390]
NY Photo Festival 2010
These last few days have been crazy. Two 3amers in a row. Wow. I've still got it. Or something like that. Thursday night, after going to a low key AWNY networking event (Silent Auction), I went downtown to an end of law school party for Brooklyn Law. It was crazy. Packed. There was dancing. And drinking. And whiskey. Not in that order.
Friday, I spent all day working from home and recovering. I didn't even leave my apartment until 5 so I was a bit stir crazy. So when my friend suggested heading to Dumbo for a NY Photo Festival party, I was all over it. The photo parties I've gone to have been generally low key, involve cheap wine, well dressed and interesting looking people standing around talking. That's how the party started... Fast forward an hour and a half in and people started dancing. The DJ put on some seriously old school tunes - like Elvin, Marvin Gaye's "Ain't No Mountain High Enough" (my favorite) going back to 50's early rock. People of all ages- hipsters, attractive Dutchmen, older folks and even someone in a handicap scooter were rocking out. And then.. we did a conga line around PowerHouse Books. It was like an awesome, sweat inducing, wedding dance - a - thon. My kind of Friday night.
And one of my favorite moments of the night - upon arriving at the York Street station, this guy and I looked at each other, had a moment of recognition that we were both at the party, and laughed. Like we were both in on a secret and knew how special, crazy and unexpected the dance party turned out.
Sunday Night Ponderings
As I sat in my dark, cold apartment on this rainy Sunday evening with my roommate and two cats (post yoga at Crunch!), I briefly considered going back on an internet dating site... and then quickly came back to my senses - realizing that I should probably focus my energy searching job matches instead of love matches. And then I checked my calendar, remembering that all my evenings are jam packed up until next week and that apparently, being unemployed, networking and working on my own ventures is more time consuming than being employed and in a relationship. But I can't complain! Hmmm. I ponder.
In no particular order, a visual guide to what I've been up to when I'm not networking, attending amazingly inspiring and informative AWNY events, sitting in cafés job searching, working with my friend to help her PR business in the social media realm, reading business books, etc. This is for you mom.
 |
| Under the cherry blossoms in the Brooklyn Botanical Gardens, Saturday April 24thAdd caption |
 |
| More cherry blossoms (I think) in Central Park |
 |
| Central Park |
 |
| I have no words. Okay, I do. Thomas and Oscar love each other. |
 |
| Sunday pancake brunch with the roommate = roommate love. |
 |
| Oscar, making catnaps sexy since April 2010. |
Updates
So I've sort of gotten a little over the whole blog thing if ya'll haven't noticed. Although I'm sure you're entertained by my videos. I started seeing someone over a month ago and have spent the majority of my time with him.. and don't really feel comfortable sharing my adventures. It's both strange and highly satisfying to know that someone speaks my language. I mean really speaks my language - fake ghetto, funny voices, random tangents and understands me despite my mild ADD tendencies. It has been a great adventure so far.
But some things never change.. today at my spin class, Carl inflicted the most pain and torture on me that he ever has. He told everyone to sit down except for me and with a shit ton of tension, made me go faster and faster while instructing the class to cheer me on. I came seconds away from passing out before he told me I could stop. And I had no music to motivate me. At the end of class, I called him out on the lack of music so who knows why kind of revenge he'll get on me next week. Then after managing to shower in a post work out haze, I headed to Whole Foods for dinner. Not realizing that the hot food would cost an arm and a leg, ordered the meal with two sides; salmon, broccoli and (shhhh) mac n' cheese. It was way too much food and cost $16! Jeeze people. This ain't 2007. I don't got no money to burn and Whole Foods certainly isn't worth it. I don't even think they clearly posted the price. I figured it would be around $10 at most and didn't ask. Hmmm. Lesson learned.
Going backwards here.. took my folks to Schiller's for my dad's birthday last night. Pictures to follow. Also went to see my friend Rebecca Lerman in a music- 23 Coins about a child genius, genetics, and fake preachers. Interesting play and she did a hell of a job going from childlike banter to child genius preacher. Saturday went to a birthday party, etc. etc. and Friday went to Bushwick (I know, I'm so hardcore) to the CMJ festival. We only saw two bands perform but liked the Grandchildren out of Philly. They just seemed like a bunch of kids having fun and making awesome music. Kind of an eclectic, almost tribal sound that included harmonies fit for an a capella group mixed with the loud, full sound of errr punk rock. Okay, I ain't no music critic. Needless to say, it was worth the trek (aight we got a ride succkkas) - to Bushwick.
Peace out kids. Despite my total adrenaline rush from fearing Carl/ spin, I'm going to hit the hay.