Observations & Acclimations

Welcome (back) to NY! Plus, Tracy Chapman, 'Vamp,' and more!

Feb 09, 2024

Hello from Manhattan, where I am reminded daily of how loud radiators are in pre-war buildings and that dogwalkers on the Upper East Side are heroes! Indeed, I’ve settled into this northern corner of the city thanks to dear friends who winter in Florida and kindly lent me their home for the month. My gratefulness knows no bounds as I settle in and reacquaint myself with living in America and being a New Yorker again.

Before I get much further, a grand BIENVENUE to those new here. Thanks to some very publicized love in the form of a YouTube video, a podcast, and a fellow Substack just before I left Paris last week I gained many new subscribers. I hope you’ll like it here. :) And for those who already like it here and may have missed what my voice sounds like when it’s holding in a cry, have a listen:

Speaking of crying, I’ve shed all the tears. The last month in Paris was a whole lot of emotions and once the wheels lifted on my plane out of CDG on February 1st, I felt a sort of relief. That’s not to say my heart doesn’t still skip a beat when scrolling through my friends’ feeds back in Paris, and I won’t have my share of Big Feelings in the coming transitional months. I was there nearly a decade, after all. But I’m here now and focused on future goals: finding an exciting new professional opportunity and making a new home, by which I mean unpacking all the bags, hanging all the artwork, displaying all the rocks and other collectibles (currently sitting in my parents’ garage and attic) in a roomy space with natural light and pre-war details ideally sans pre-war clanging. :)

In the meantime, let’s chat New York City! As most of you know, I’m from here and lived in the city for over 12 years before moving to Paris in 2014. I’ve visited throughout the years, of course, but mostly in the summer, and for no more than a handful of days at a time since I usually stayed with my parents on Long Island. I’d either bunk at a friend’s in “the city” for a few nights or just commute in for the day thanks to the ’ole LIRR. This summer I spent two weeks in Brooklyn courtesy of Home Exchange, but it’s been some time since I spent any real “livable” time in Manhattan. When I did have an address here, I was a downtown, west-side girlie. My first apartment was on Thompson, followed by Perry, followed briefly by Fifth Avenue (on the west side of the street!), and lastly by Greenwich Avenue. There was a year, in the early-aughts, when I spent a good amount of time taking the L to the 4/5/6 due to my dating a guy who lived up in these parts, but West was always best for me.

East, west, uptown or downtown, I’ve noticed quite a few changes to the Big Apple since my time as a resident. Things feel both familiar and completely foreign at the time time. As if I’ve gone through some timewarp and am walking around in an alternate universe. People have had to remind me that, yes, Torrisi was a sandwich shop, but now it’s the hottest Italian restaurant in town, pot is legal (the smell is everywhere), and Target is King (the shopping bags are also everywhere; almost like a status symbol of sorts).

When I lived in the city there were one, maybe two, Targets. Same for Trader Joe’s. The latter is still not quite in every neighborhood—as evidenced by the crowds who “prove they cannot navigate a cart in close quarters,” as my friend Jeremy remarked—but they’re cult-like for sure. In fact, when I posted on IG earlier this week that my love affair with TJ’s may have come to an end, people were all sorts of shocked and dismayed. Here’s the thing: I love me some cheap chocolate-covered cherries; their medium salsa “especial” makes my lips tingle in the best possible way; and don’t get me started on their grainless granola clusters. But when it comes to produce and baked goods, mais non. First of all, I don’t need an entire bag of anything—especially when it’s prewrapped in plastic. Second of all, nothing is ever fresh or ripe. Now, perhaps this was always the case. But when I left New York, I did not enjoy cooking the way I do now, in which case if I want or need some sprouts or fresh mint or a loaf, I’m gonna go to Whole Paycheck, I mean Whole Foods. Never thought I’d say it, but, hey, we all grow up eventually—whether or not our bank accounts reflect that fact.

On the subject of banks, Chase is still around, but what is this Citizens? I’ve also noticed the fake flower trend is, sadly (and perhaps ironically), alive and well. New Yorkers take their winter coverage seriously: lots of puffers, hoods, and hats. I was prepared for the noise—and it is, indeed, loud—but I wasn’t prepared to be captured by the light as much as I was in Paris. Maybe I just wasn’t as much of a soleil seeker in the Before Times. The skyscrapers are no Haussmanian facades, but they’re pretty impressive all the same.

The metro—sorry, subway (I can’t seem to call it the subway again despite how long it took me not to call the metro the subway when I first arrived in Paris!)—is significantly dirtier. It also feels less efficient with no real reliable service. Five to nine minutes between trains??? What is that? I did miss hearing the conductors announce the stops and say, “Stand clear of the closing doors.” In Paris, it’s all automated or non-existent. Also, my friend’s Uber back to Brooklyn last night—from just above Union Square—was $47. You could fly from Paris to Spain for that much! Let’s see…what else? Oh, apparently buildings get rated on energy efficiency now and have to display their “grade” publicly. I only recall restaurant ratings and steering clear of any Bs or Cs. (This was before I learned how rigorous all those protocols can be thanks, in part, to The Bear!)

It’s only (already!) been a week, so that’s all I’ve noticed so far. I have enjoyed understanding and engaging in conversations with more confidence. I wasn’t in New York for 24 hours when I overheard some guy call a woman an asshole for being on her phone while placing a bagel order. The next day, I watched as an Andrew Dice Clay look-alike came into a salon and asked for a bikini wax. Then, a few days later, the cashier at the GAP on Third and 85th told me all about how he ran into Madonna outside her townhouse nearby, and, finally, I met a character named Larry, aka “the chicken guy” of Central Park, whom everyone with a dog either loves or hates because he tosses them homemade boiled poultry when walking past Le Pain Quotidien. (Which, by the way, even after 9 years in France I still can’t pronounce properly.)

So there you have it, friends. First-week observations and acclimations. What will you witness in the next few days, aside from Taylor Swift possibly going back in time to eat some wings in Vegas while watching her lover play football? Bon (Super Bowl) week-end! xx — Sara

Clickable

Being bothered is a pastime when you’re older and unemployed. | The NY Times
Meanwhile, millennials are aging not-so-quietly, too. | The NY Times
“Hardly anyone wants to ‘build a platform;’ we want to just have one.” Sigh. | Vox
On ambition, hopefulness, and optimism. |
Atoosa Unedited
Kara Swisher on ‘how tech obliterated media.’ | Intelligencer
Fascinating and helpful: The ABCs of salt types and usages. | The NY Times

Share Overthinking It

Watchable

The fact that many people did not know Tracy Chapman as the original singer/songwriter of “Fast Car” pains my (clearly-ancient) heart, and her performance at this year’s Grammy’s proves why. Sure, 33-year-old Luke Combs who recently repopularized the 1988 track created by the 59-year-old, does a nice job turning it into a country ditty, but she not can be bettered. No way, no how. Her calm restraint! Her measured melodies! Now, I don’t blame Luke for trying; there isn’t a Gen-X-er or elder Millennial who hasn’t sung the song at the top of their lungs, likely with windows down in their own fast car (see this clip from “Girls” circa 2017). But I’m really glad he gave credit where credit was due by dueting with her on music’s biggest night!

I also can’t get enough of Justin Timberlake’s new single, “Selfish,” nor can I get enough of his friendship with Jimmy Fallon. Their medley of Timberlake’s songs played with The Roots using classroom instruments gave me all the feels. I only wish they called Calvin to accompany them with his “ookalele.”

Currently Overthinking…

…iPhone cases…pant sizes…restaurants reservations…karaoke song choices…

Souvenir: ‘Vamp’ by Chanel & ‘Spice’ by MAC

The easiest thing to pack up last week was my makeup. Not just because the items are small, but because I’ve never really been beauty-obsessed and don’t have much. Of course, in my impressionable years, I did fall victim to trends and was recently reminded of some popular shades of the late ’90s/early aughts: the deep, dark burgundy nail color ‘Vamp’ (or ‘Rouge Noir’) by Chanel, and the neutral lip-liner ‘Spice’ by MAC. Who feels me on these? Did you have them? Any others you loved or even still use?