Today marks the one year anniversary of the Women’s March. Here is some street art inspired by the march that I found on the streets in Soho.
This is one of the most inventive, least invasive street art take over’s I’ve seen. The black birds are made out of plastic, artist unknown. The pussy hats were almost certainly put on by someone other than the artist: they are simply pink post-it notes cut into pussy shapes and stuck on the plastic!
“just resist!” by Goldloxe
Have you seen any street art inspired by the Women’s March, #MeToo, or other protests?
Some of the fleeting moments in my week that made me stop and think, “I’m so lucky to live in NYC!”
Unexpected live stalk lurking betwixt lime green benches.
This heifer is outside Bubby’s Restaurant. Is her name Bubby? I don’t know! I’ve actually never eaten here but Nikki went on on her recent NYC visit- check out her post raving about Bubby’s pancakes.
Christmas decorations still up one month after the holiday.
Even the NYPD’s pathetic, but strangely charming, attempt to make police barriers festive at 145th Street subway station. Read More
My lovely reader Katherine wrote this post, musing about the city she has known since birth. Please enjoy this post that offers a very different perspective from mine!
I am not a tourist. Really.
Although born in Connecticut, I grew up in Manhattan. Central Park was my playground; Riverside Park was school recess. I played Skee-Ball at Coney Island. I did my math homework on the D train coming home from Bronx Science. I never saw Woody Allen, but I knew exactly which subway car would put me in front of the stand that sold soft pretzels when I reached my stop.
As you can see from the list, these are all childhood activities. I never dated in New York. I never paid rent. I never had to put on panty hose and struggle through public transportation to reach a job interview. I never adulted.
When I was 14, I moved to suburban Maryland. Since then I have spun farther and farther out into the country. I have washed ashore in the rural heart of reddest America. Psychologically, I am as far from the Upper West Side as one can get and still be in the United States.
Part of me never left New York.
I’ve reached a new level of NYC obsession. I now love NYC inside and out. See, it’s not enough to have New York all around me the minute I step outside my apartment! I need it inside my apartment too!
I was on a mission to find the perfect New York City art piece to hang in my apartment.
When you live in a tiny shoe box of a #newyorkcliche apartment, space is a premium. This includes wall space. The one place in all of New York City that is mine, all mine? I want it to be vibrant, creative, and colorful.
Finding the right piece was completely overwhelming. Comb the internet and you’ll find approximately 8 million different prints capturing this city of 8 million people. Great, one for each! How the hell to choose? And once I choose, what if the quality is shit??
I got really lucky. Like when-you-descend-the-subway-steps-and-train-is-there-waiting-for-you lucky. A company called Photowall swooped in and saved me from being crushed under the weight of too many options. This Swedish company boasts a passion for design and quality and has a 100% guarantee. Worth a try right? Then they offered to send me a piece for free in exchange for an honest review. How could I say no? Read More
To the unaccustomed eye, it might look like NYC has its own version of Big Foot. Furry creatures that live in the subway systems (perhaps?) and emerges when the temperatures dip below freezing. They walk among us and New Yorkers are so jaded we don’t bat an eye? Are they some Star Wars lovechild of Wookiees and Ewoks?
Nah, they’re just women who aren’t afraid to wear fur in New York City.
You might think this looks like a messy PETA confrontation waiting to happen but it’s surprisingly common in the Big Apple.
New York City is fur country, ya hear?
I’ve seen a anti-fur protest or two (mostly outside Canada Goose in Soho) but they involved graphic signs of coyotes and chants like “Fur isn’t fashion! Where the hell is your compassion!” Read More
I know the January cliché is all about dieting and health…but sometimes it’s too cold for that. After all, if there’s ever a time for delicious comfort food, it’s today: Blue Monday. So let me tell you all about an amazing meal I had at Imli on the Upper East Side. Give yourself a cheat day, or stick to your resolve and just indulge vicariously through me!
Imli Restaurant on 1st Ave looks chic and modern from the outside. The menu features inventive cocktails, small dishes, and traditional classics: “urban Indian food”.
Besides being a bit off the beaten path (mad east), it’s got all the fixings of a great place to bring a date. Want to make it not just dinner but a memorable date? Eat a meal at Imli and then take a spin on the Roosevelt Island Tram just three blocks away. That makes it off the beaten path in a special way.
All the food was delicious. The small plates are perfect for sharing and where you’ll find see clear “urban” interpretations.