Wanders

With stacks of magazines surrounding me all day, every day, its no wonder I’m flipping through them from time to time (and want to hug every tree I see). In an old issue of one of our magazines, I came across a feature of all things “one of a kind” highlighting those ritzy bitzy charms that are more unique than a snowflake (of course, the things only your black card can buy). Of the four cities highlighted, I see Paris: Pour Femme, and my Francophile eyes are obliged to read on. I get a to-do (to buy) list of treasures you’d find nowhere else in the world. I immediately email Ashley (currently gallivanting in France, already planning her indefinite retour to the city of lights) suggesting her perusal of the vintage ribbon shop in the second arrondissement and to take shelter from the sun under a daintily hand crafted, centuries old parasol. Were it not for her hobbit-sized feet, I would have suggested the hand-cobbled Parisian heels, but since we can’t split the mere $3,400 price tag, I kindly omit (guess we’ll be settling for some off-the-rack Blahniks and Loubitins, pish posh). I need not mention the limited edition line of Louis Vuitton earrings being sold on the Champs Elysees, as I already expect to unwrap them as this year’s birthday present (no pressure, Ash).

Paris: Made by

A small write-up about how these hidden gems were discovered precedes the article. It can all be summed up with one word: wanders. The young stylist who penned Paris: Made by Hand, describes her aimless walks around her city as such, and is apparently my couture French counterpart. Although, for me, a purchase is not always the intent, and I take my feather light purse (free of the weight of a credit card made out of metal – metal!) or no purse at all on wanders of my own.

I’m reminded of the days in Lyon when I would get a message on Skype or a text on my pay-as-you-go phone from Cory: “Who wants to go wandering?” -Were generally his exact words, and “Moi” was always my answer. Looking back, I’m so glad he always pestered me away from Internet TV and off on a random adventure (usually involving the pursuit of snacks…). I think we inspired each other to explore places we knew and places we didn’t, with company or without (and no matter how bad our French accents).

I continue this sentiment in my domestic life, nostalgic for the Rhone, the Saone, and fifteenth century architecture, but with as much zeal as I had abroad. Let me give you a view from my back pocket on my wanders around New York City:

Vintage Thrift: I walk along third avenue, a street I've grown to know quite well, as I choose to begin most of my wanders here, passed the side by side Irish pubs and into Gramercy, to a land filled with NYU students - more of their judging eyes popping up with each descending block; its like they know I don't belong (or do they sense that I'm invading a dream?!). Here, I expect to be lured by the occasional Tasti-d-Lite, but am surprised when an adorable storefront catches my eye between dorm buildings and restaurants. An unlikely vintage thrift shop; above Union Square and on the East side, to boot! It's just what I've been looking for - especially since I can't go home without a lamp for my bedroom or be doomed face imminent lack-light switched darkness (this really is beginning to sound like a scene from Inception). I wander inside, (especially tickled by the fact that proceeds from the shop benefit the United Jewish Council of the East Side - a shout out to my clansmen/ladies; Shabbat shalom), holding my breath, hoping for prices not resembling its expensive vintage store cousins in SoHo. As soon as I walk in, I head straight passed the racks of hanging clothes (since which I've been back to peruse), and am drawn to the collection of home goods (and lamps!) at the back of the store. I think there's a glowing aura around one particular lamp, painted delicately with intricate gold flowers calling me like a moth to a flame (cheaper than the others because of its make shift extension cord held together with electrical tape - fingers crossed, but it hasn't burst into flames yet), and its begging me to give it a home. I gladly oblige and elatedly carry, tucked under my arm, back to my dark room. When I flick on the switch, my first New York purchase lights up my first New York bedroom (quite brightly, as the old dog came without a lamp shade). I look around, satisfied. Now I can see it clearly: my new home.
http://www.vintagethriftshop.org/


In a short time, I've found my favorite spots in the city that I've come across on walks, jogs, jaunts and the like. A less long winded look at a few more:


Washington Square (at night): a la Paris! In my opinion, this is the most romantic venue in New York after sunset (if you can ignore the late night crowd that the magic of the illuminated arches and fountain draw).
http://washingtonsquarepark.org/wsppp/index.htmlhttp://washingtonsquarepark.org/



Hell's Kitchen Flea Market: Hand-carved cast iron stamps, maps, and all things olde tymey that make you wish you had lived before the future was here.
http://www.hellskitchenfleamarket.com/fleamarket/index.php

Crumbs: Cupcakes and coffee. I am the proud owner a frequent coffee card (I don't go for the coffee, but now I get one every time - marketing geniuses!), although my desire to eat every cupcake in the city no longer haunts me (hard to believe, I know), but these oversized, overfilled, perfectly buttercreamed treats are enough to lure me in if I happen to be walking by one of their shops.
http://www.crumbs.com/




Terroir Wine Bar: I admit, this was upon recommendation, but still, the tiny bar is the perfect place to meet for a glass of wine and a small bite before dinner. Where I'm able (and encouraged) to partake in my favorite part about French dining culture - l'apero.
http://www.wineisterroir.com/

Jack’s $.99 Store: The last true dollar store in the North East! An amazing bodega that lives on my walk home from work where I make out like a bandit, from cleaning supplies to picture frames. While some things are priced a bit over a dollar, and bargain shopping can be a little scary (especially when food is involved), who can say no to a 6-pack of toilet paper for $2.59?
http://www.yelp.com/biz/jacks-99-cent-store-new-york  


I don’t always have a destination in mind while I explore neighborhoods and their unique feelings. I like not knowing, being curious and spontaneous in hopes of someday finding what I'm looking for. But, sometimes, I am going towards something a little more specific. Why? Because, well, if I'm always walking blindly with the wind, how do I expect to ever get anywhere at all? There are things that I know that I want - and I will get them.

This, my friends, is what I wander towards, on purpose (in a little known place called Brooklyn):