new york, NEW YORK…
Where do I start… And more importantly, how do I avoid the timeworn clichés we’ve all read and re-read when it comes to New York?
There are no words to depict the magic of New York, and I won’t even attempt to change that.
My lame pictures won’t do it justice; the best thing about New York is just being there.
Hell’s Kitchen’s Flea Market on West 39th
Bargain junk at the Housing Works thrift shop on 9th avenue
I could have filled the whole plane with cheap home finds, like an old-fashioned French armoire for a knee-slapping $75 for instance… But for obvious reasons, I had to walk away and forget all about that.
Funnily enough, my highlight of the weekend was not shopping-related (!?). It couldn’t be further removed from the evils of capitalist consumption in fact: the High Line is an elevated rail track initially built in the 30’s to remove dangerous trains from Manhattan’s busy West-side streets. The disused structure was about to be knocked down in 1999 when a group of locals decided to pull together and turn the line into an elevated public park, a quiet space for New Yorkers to simply slow down.
The result is breathtaking as you’re free to wander from West 34th to the Meatpacking District with amazing views of the city and abundant shrubs, trees and grasses to admire along the way. A second section has now opened northbound and takes you from 34th to 20th (but we missed the opening by 2 days).
Of course I couldn’t stay away from the shops entirely… I tried really hard to be cool and sophisticated on the shopping front as I didn’t want my purchases to give me away as a typical first-time visitor to New York.
I just about did ok with a Henri Bendel Firewood candle, a load of Philosophy products, an impressive edition of Paul Auster’s New York Trilogy, an Atlas of New York City for my coffee table…
…and then I saw this:
My first experience of New York was perfect.
And yes it was JUST like in the movies.