I am back in New York but doing it a completely different way this time.
My husband and I are here for a much needed weekend alone. This is his third time here and since he is a city- phobe, we are doing it real casual…
We are staying at a relative’s empty apartment (that she keeps for out of town guests. Can you IMAGINE?), on 6th and Prince, in the heart of SoHo. What could be better?
My goal is to show my husband the heart and soul of New York, the funky places where original culture exists. He is NOT into the swanky upscale restaurants or glossy boutiques so I will not torture him with that scene at all. Frankly, I am relieved to be in my jeans and walking shoes, and I am ready to get lost by aimlessly strolling around little side streets of NY.
We arrived Thursday night and after dumping our bags off at the apartment we wove our way through Soho, to the edges of China Town and into Little Italy. Upon walking into our chosen random restaurant, I swore two characters right out of the “Soprano’s” were on their way out. Except these guys were the real deal, I am sure.
All around us, in the restaurant and on the streets was a cacophony of different languages… English seems to be the exception to the rule in NY these days.
On our way back up to SoHo, I was reminded how much has changed since I lived here 20 years ago. SoHo used to be a place where artists lived: where the up and coming fashion designers displayed their collections. Now, only the chains can afford to rent here. Coach, Apple, Wolford, even Victoria Secret! It’s terrible…. really sad.
Friday morning we meandered our way up to the West Village and got lost on little side streets while we fantasized about buying an old brownstone for a satellite BrandHabit office, equipped with a crash pad for long weekends. Thank god, many of the small boutique owners still exist here. But it does seem that the chains will soon eat away at the original charm of the village. On Bleeker, Ralph Lauren, Tommy Hilfiger and Marc Jacobs inhabit the store fronts as you get towards 8th Ave. Someone has to STOP this! I mean, I have nothing against these designers (Marc and I lived on the same street back in the 80’s and we would often stop to chat… that was a long time ago, when Marc was just starting out) … but seriously; what originality is left in this world if everything becomes a chain?
Where originality seems to have bloomed in NYC is in the little café/bakery world. Tiny little places, stuffed with locals seem to be everywhere. We stopped into a bakery in the village called Amy’s Bakery and I had an AMAZING Oat scone with banana’s and pecans. It’s was so crispy crunchy, not to sweet… perfect. Anyway, if I could taste the creations in each bakery café all day long, I would! Luckily my vanity and my stomach size stop me. Tomorrow, I’ll get to try something new…
Anyway, after breakfast, we walked up to the Meat Packing District and … I have to admit I dragged my husband into Jeffrey, the swanky boutique I am sure most of you have heard of. You know how these places are: A lot of stiff bodied young people sizing you up and down to be sure you are rich enough to even set foot in the store and watching every move you make. I don’t think my husband has EVER set foot in a place like this… I could tell he felt like a fish out of water. I on the other hand can play the game and in fact soon recognized a salesperson, Doug who I chatted with last time I was in the store. Doug is great... he will find the right item that’s perfect for you. He has a nose for it. The only catch: you have to be able to afford a $4000 zipper dress that you know will be out of style before you pay off your credit card.
Next, we walked into Hogs and Heifers. It was 11AM and we were the only people there. “Wanna drink?” my husband meekly asked me. “Why not? We are on vacation!”
Soon we were deep in conversation with Kathy, a whooping and hollerin, cussin and dancing 30 year old gal from Jersey who ended up managing the bar after her parents picked up and moved to the middle of the country. She had been managing a dental office and teaching Sunday school when without the comfort of her parent’s pad, realized she had to make some REAL money.
Within a few minutes, construction workers (who are building the new Ian Schrager Standard Hotel) poured in for their lunch beers and eye candy entertainment by Kathy and her new, impossibly stacked and nearly naked bar maid. “God”, I whispered to my husband… “I used to dress like that!” Ahhhh youth. Enjoy it while you can is all I can say. The entire scene was just classic: big construction workers, 2 barely dressed bartenders, and a giant metal cow with hundreds upon hundreds of bras strewn about it…
3 (three!) drinks later we saunter back out into the sunlight of the afternoon and find a place to eat lunch. Now, after a nap and some internet research to plan our “off the beaten path” day tomorrow… I think we will head out for a latte…More later.
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