So you want some new friends.  Maybe you don’t have any yet because you just moved to the city.  Maybe you recently broke up with your girlfriend, who turned everyone you know against you (whore).  Or maybe you’re just kind of sick of the friends you’ve already got.  I mean,

I’m sure this pop-up shop trend pisses off landlords, but until this whole economy thing sorts itself out, I fully welcome new and inventive ways to use empty storefronts. I wrote last month about Kill Devil Hill in Greenpoint turning into a bakery boutique and now they’re showing you a

I have always heard that it takes a certain type of person to live in New York City.  Those who move here are often looking to make it’ to rise to the top and claim their fortune.  Sometimes these New Yorkers are looked at as ‘œType A’ or overambitious.  Sometimes

Assholes There’s this relatively new phenomenon happening right now called the Urban Farming Movement. (Check it out: even T.I. supports it!) My boyfriend, in particular, is really into it for two reasons: 1.) He fancies himself as a sort of misanthrope and really loves the idea of never having to

If you have ever ridden a bike, own a bike, or know what a bike is, you’re probably familiar with the messenger bag. One of the sweetest types out there are a little local operation called Timbuk2. Maybe you’ve hear of them? Well even if you haven’t (seriously, who are

With the recent amazing weather in New York, you may have forgotten that we are still smack-dab in the middle of resort season.  Those of us who don’t winter in St.Barts are less likely to pay attention to those seasonal designations but that doesn’t change the fact that it is

I’ll wear clothes that are falling apart, I only put on make up for job interviews, but I feel like less of a person when my hair looks like shit. But the idea of spending $60+ on a haircut makes me want to vomit. So since moving to New York,

I’m gonna be really real right now: the only thing that gets me wetter than fantasizing about making it with one of Marva Whitney’s back-up dancers is basking in the sun and eating some down home, backyard barbeque. You can imagine my reaction, then, when I heard about Hard French,