Hello hello.

How are ya?

I’m at a hipster den in Williamsburg today called Devoción, drinking coffee and allowing the sweat from the journey here to reabsorb into my body. Lovely. I also took all of the correct trains, on the first try, to get here so I’m feeling pretty good about myself. Here’s what else I’ve been up to this week in nyc.

COFFEE SHOP THOUGHTS

After traversing Dante’s Inferno of city streets, I pulled an old barn door open and stepped inside of a cool, massive, exposed brick warehouse to join the line.

You know they start like cherries? What? The coffee beans, they start off like cherries. Then they extract the bean.

I look to my right and see the massive mill filled with coffee beans that the guy in front of me is pointing to. We begin to discuss the science behind the harvesting and processing of coffee, him obviously trying to show off his fine tuned hipster knowledge of the coffee bean, and me trying to slyly dab the sweat from my arms as I nod along to his unsolicited mansplaining. I order a coffee and scan the sea of millennials on their laptops to find the one open table. I make the necessary quick-walk over to it. About ten minutes later an older, business looking guy asks if he can sit on the other side of said table, and I nod. Why not. One relinquishes all personal space when in nyc. 10 a.m: shared tiny table with stranger. 10:30 am: said stranger takes a very loud business call. In French. Who are these people who come to public spaces to take their phone calls and zoom meetings?

EXPLORATIONS

I left the coffee shop and wandered around until I found this gorgeous waterfront right under the Williamsburg Bridge. Domino Park. To one side is Manhattan and to the other, a old brick sugar factory that transported me into every history book that I have ever loved. You look up and see the 1800s only to look down and see a gaggle of children running around a sleek, modern playground built at the feet of all of that industrial charm. They don’t even know how cool they have it. City kids.

I kept exploring, stopped for lunch, thrifted some vintage Levi shorts that I’m very excited about, popped into a few more boutiques, and descended back down into the subway. I stopped to take photo of a rat and send it to my family as a friendly hello from New York and hopped on the train to observe people. I saw two young boys subway car hopping, one girl gossiping about some guy who she told her friend she is just going to pretend doesn’t even exist the next time she sees him. Very entertaining. Oh, and let’s not leave out the two woodsy, backpacking girls who stepped inside and started talking about how they really just want to be more sustainable with all of their shopping and DIY whenever possible. One lifted her arm to grasp the rail, revealing unshaven armpits, that feminist power play that I just can’t bring myself to want to try. They would probably say that I’ve internalized patriarchal oppression, and they would be correct. But very cool for them.

LAND OF MISFITS

It’s so hot that you quickly learn to bring your deodorant with you when you leave the house, for necessary and shameless reapplications throughout the day. I whipped that baby out in the middle of the park today. When it’s this hot, people don’t even have the energy to look over, let alone care. But that’s also just how New York always feels. It’s said to be lonely because you can easily feel invisible, but that illusion of invisibility is also what makes it so liberating. You feel like you can be whoever you want to be here. You can dance to your music while waiting for the train or sing your way down the stairs and no one looks twice. You can wear the funkiest, most outrageous things and you barely even stand out among all of the other misfits. Everywhere that you look, someone seems to have some bit of their personality on their outfit. There are trends, for sure. These people are on top of all of them. But even while conforming to those trends, they always seem to make it their own in some little way.

Like the mom I saw today wearing a basic floral dress, but with polka dot ankle socks. She was laughing with her friend as she poured milk into her coffee and I just thought of how happy and free she looked. Or the guy on the train wearing black pants and a white shirt, but with rainbow tie dye crocks. Just something. Little things. They make me smile. Me, who showed up to soccer practice wearing pink polka-dotted leggings under her shorts as a kid that made her coach want to scream. Turns out there’s a whole city of us. New York feels a lot like the land of misfit toys in that way. It’s where all of the oddballs and unique souls come to be everything they were made to feel that they couldn’t be wherever they came from. I love it for that.

Hope you are well.

Love, m.

JOIN THE FUN

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