Sometimes it's hard to leave the island of Manhattan.
For me- everything I need is within walking distance, or a $5 cab ride, or a ten minuet subway ride. Why go anywhere else? The best cup of coffee is right on Hester and Mott for me. My gym is a ten minuet walk to the corner of Prince and Crosby, and the three block walk to Q train takes me to the door of my work place in under ten minuets. For entertainment and food- it's all in my neighborhood: The Box, 205, Stanton Public, The Johnsons, Happy Ending, Rice, Café Habana, and The Public are all within minuets from my house.
I have found once you get into a routine in NYC, it's time to break it. New wonderful adventures are only a bridge or subway ride away.
My love, Brooklyn:
I love Brooklyn. When I first move to New York, I lived in Brooklyn. As soon as I cross the Williamsburg Bridge I always feel a sense a calm that emanates from this borough. The sound is a little more muffled then the city, and in Williamsburg, it feels like everyone is cutting class, especially when you walk down Bedford Avenue. Ice coffee is sipped late into the afternoon simultaneously as Happy Hour begins at the eclectic local bars.
My best friend Matt lives in Brooklyn. So when I am coming over on the JMZ (or as I like to call it "The Jams") I call Matt up. We head to some of our favorite bars or restaurants. He is a list of some of our favorites:
Sweet Ups 277 Graham Ave (near Grand) I love Sweet Ups for several reasons. The wall is covered in sexy red velvet wall paper. You feel the need to touch it when you sit in the booths. They make my FAVORITE drink in New York- "The Blackberry Bramble." I still don't know what exactly is in it- but you can get it made with vodka or gin. Delicious! After Matt and I have a bramble (or two) we walk it on over to The Dumont for dinner.
The Dumont 432 Union Avenue (near the Lorimer stop on the L train) The food is the equivalent to a good make out session. The whole time you're eating you just look at the person you're eating with and say, "Oh my god! This is so good. I didn't know it would be this good. Omigod..." Matt usually gets The Dumont Burger (which they are famous for). We also usually split the sinful Dumac & Cheese. Every once and a while they run out of the Dumac & Cheese and you can literally see the tears well up in peoples' eyes. Yeah, it's that good.
After being satiated on food, it's time for Matt and I too do a little dancing (well, for me to do a little dancing and for Matt to awkwardly sway back and forth). So we go to our friend James' bar Savalas.
Savalas 285 Bedford Ave Savalas is a beauty of a bar. James (the owner) really put a lot of thought and detail in the place from the hand glass blown lighting fixtures to the cork ceiling. The DJ's are always spinning some great rockin' dance tunes, and everyone is always up for a good time. James likes to experiment with vodka flavors too. He introduced me to the wonders of "Oreo Vodka" whoa! Good stuff. You can always catch a few of Brooklyn's local celebrities there from TV on the Radio to the Rapture. After a few spins on the dance floor and a shot with James, Matt and I head to another local dance spot- Bembe.
Bembe 81 South 6th Street (on the corner of Berry Street) Bembe is right under the Williamsburg Bridge. It almost has a speakeasy feel. There is a large Redwood door that looks impossible to open, but it moves with ease. The interior is cozy and is a mixture of historic NY fixtures: the bar was made from floor joists from the Meat Packing District, the support columns in the basement were taken from an old wooden roller coaster from Brooklyn. The drinks at Bembe are fantastic from their homemade Sangrias to their delicious mango Margarita. Even with all of that Matt love's all the hot Latin ladies that frequent the spot. The music is usually soul upstairs and Latin music downstairs. It's always packed wall to wall. It almost feels like a hot night in Havana there (hot in a sexy way! Not temperature wise.)
With that I bid Matthew a good night and head back over the fire red Williamsburg Bridge to Chinatown smelling like incense and mint from Bembe.
Often going out in New York serves two purposes: To socialize and To network. As I am a multi-tasker in a multitask city this works well for me. My day job and my extracurricular actives overlap like cloverleaf highways. Before I leave to go out at night I take a stack of business cards with me; as you never know who you are going to meet out at night and how you might be able to help each other out on a project.
Sometimes networking and socializing is scheduled in New York, which from time to time I prefer. Otherwise trying to connect with those you would like to do business with sounds a little like this:
“How about Tuesday at 8:00?”
“That’s no good, I have drinks Chambers Hotel. How about 10pm on Wednesday?”
“That’s no good for me, I’ve got a post party after that opening at Milk. Friday at 6:00pm in Chelsea?”
“Can we do 7pm in the Village?
“Deal.”
And with that Paul and I meet up in the Village for a little conversation, drinks, and to find out what projects each of us have been working on. Paul is a successful actor. My definition of a successful actor is one that is employed 90% of the time. He is. He has been in movies, television, been on Broadway, Off-Broadway, written a television series, and is currently in pre-production for one of his plays in Chicago. He is something else.
We meet at a little margarita place in the Village to talk shop. A few promised business collaborations and margaritas later, Paul and I opt to go to another bar in the West Village that eventually inspires us to go dancing at Cielo in the Meatpacking District.
Paul and I felt like celebrating. My friend Shu was at the door- he is another one of those New Yorkers that has ten different fantastic things going on at all times. Part owner of a vodka label, part owner of a nightclub, just completed a movie on the nightlife in NY and Miami and in his “spare” time, he is working the door this night at Cielo. With a kiss and a “really good to see you again” from Shu, Paul and I walk into Cielo.
Cielo has a very chill vibe. The sunken dance floor is always filled with people actually dancing (most clubs these days just have a few people swaying back and forth) and there is a very, (dare I say) peaceful outdoor space with tree limbs stretching over the entirety of the patio.
Paul and I walk up to the bar and are about to buy drinks when a gentleman approaches me. He looks like a boxer, but is polite, sweet, and has a gentle accent. Which causes Paul to make the following remark “Maya, do you even talk to men that don’t have an accent?” he says with a smile. “Ohhh, ha ha Paul.”
The gentleman asks if we would like a drink. “A glass of champagne would be nice.” I say. “Anything with vodka would be fine by me.” Paul says towering above the both of us. The next thing I know, a hostess comes over to us. “Are you Maya?” She asks. “Yes” I say- a bit confused. “Great.” She says, “Let me show you to your table.”
The hostess lets us know that out gentleman friend has gotten us a table, filled it with Greygoose, Cliquot, and all the mixers you would ever need.
The gentleman comes over to sit beside me. We find out he is a club owner in town. He was a former boxer. “Hmmm girl, he must like you” Paul says pouring himself a glass of Cliquot. The Gentleman tells Paul he can invite who ever he wants to over to our table. Within minuets time we had 10 people sitting with us, helping us empty the three bottles on the table.
The gentleman asks me what I do. Of course. Networking never stops, not even with bottles of Cliquot popped and Greygoose shots.
We both realize we could put a few events together. But then he asks me if it is possible to take me out to dinner sometime. That’s when I grabbed his left hand, point out his wedding band to him and say, “Why don’t we just stick to business.” He blushes and apologizes.
Paul and I leave a little while later. We walk over the cobblestone road, laughing and talking about projects and parties to come.
(in these photos: felicia, mark, koury, hauke, brent, and me)
What makes a great night at a good club?
It’s the company you keep and more importantly the company you bring.
I met my friend Felicia a few months back. Her upper half was hanging out of the window at The Johnsons. She was talking loudly on her cell phone, “I AM HERE. NO, I AM HERE NOW!!! GET YOUR ARSE OVER HERE!” She laughed wildly and then bounced back into the window pulling up a barstool.
Some people that talk loudly on their cell phones in public do it get attention, or for you to hear what they think is a really fabulous conversation (that- let’s face it- you’re not interested in) not Felicia. She is from LA, she is Latin, she is a quiet storm; and by a quiet storm I mean she is quiet for about 2 seconds and then a storm for the rest of the 23.99 hours of the day.
I took my seat next to her at the bar as she waited on her friend. Within a minuet we introduced ourselves and she was buying me a beer and a shot. We became fast friends that night.
Just on of my favorite qualities in Felicia is that she will never turn down going out.
“Flea, where you at?” I say to her on the phone one week.
“I’m trying to take a nap.” She says with a sleepy purr.
“It’s six at night.” I say.
“Yeah, I went to bed a few hours ago.” She says.
“Oh, so I guess were not going out tonight.” I say disappointed.
“What? Who said that? I will be ready to go at ten. Just make sure your rested.” She says with a laugh.
I can not keep up.
Felicia represents to me what the best of New York used to be and could be again. She seems to me to be straight out of Andy Warhol’s silver painted Factory. Where those individuals didn’t worry about wearing the right name brands (most of them made their own clothes to wear or wore the clothes of their aspiring fashion designer friends). What those individual brought with them was an original attracting or brash personality. They became New York celebrities in their own right, not because they came from pedigreed family- but because they had something more to offer to the nightlife then wearing Christian Louboutin shoes (um, I’m totally not knocking those shoes, they are dead sexy! yay!).It was the way their make up was applied, the way they danced, laughed, or just ran through the night.
When I go out with Felicia, Mark, and Chris (and my other lovelies) the night passes by within moments. Dancing is endless, as are the bottles from the promoters tables, conversations flow, phone numbers are exchanged (sometimes without you meaning to give them out. FYI- DON’T EVER give your number out to a guy you are not remotely interested in, attracted to, or maybe even a little repulsed by. Just say the following sentence “I am married.” Don’t say “I have a boyfriend” because they won’t care, and for god sakes don’t say you’re “A lesbian” because they will just say “Can I watch.” That was my public service announcement to you).
My advice is don’t worry about the owning the chicest clothes, or having lots of loot.
Bring you hot self, you glowing personality, get to know the staff at the clubs (they are the gate keepers) and call you’re great friends for a good time.
The night started out with cocktails in the basement of my friend's bar watching "So You Think You Can Dance" and ended with getting asked out by one of "The Lost Boys" Aka "The Coreys."
Let me explain.
This was not the week of sleep.
I'm not one of those people that can function well on three hours of sleep and still go to the day job peppy and fresh. More like irritable and in need of a shower. I like sleep, I would like to do it more, because I like my bed and all the accoutrements it comes with: the pillows, the sheets, the comforter, the closed eyes (and if you lucky a nice handsome friend, yummy).
However my bed and me barely speaking this week and last night was no exception.
I came home from work, exhausted yesterday, looking forward to sleep or at the very least a long nap. As I walk up the steps to my room, stripping of my jacket, kicking my shoes aside, and swan diving into my bed, I get a call from Felicia.
"Where you at?" She said.
"At my casa...in bed....sooo tired." I say with a whine, face down in my pillow.
"Get off your butt and get down here to Stanton Public!" she said persistently. I really can't say no to Felicia, she's beautiful, she's persuasive, and she makes a mean drink. I roll out of bed and head out.
I get to the bar, where Felicia shakes up two thick Martini's, grabs me, and we go downstairs to watch "So You Think You Can Dance."
"What's the plan for tonight?" She asks me leaning back in the booth.
"You tell me." I said watching the dance competition.
She tells me the plan is Home, Marquee, drinking, dancing, and flirting.
Our photographer friend Koury comes along for the ride.
We all head to Home first. The fabulous Fabrizio is at the door. Hands down, New York City's (and formally Miami's) best and most stunningly handsome (and absolutely hilarious) doorman. He can make you feel sexy with a wink and warm kiss.
Once inside Jordan (the promoter) pours us a drink from his bottle, DJ Schuller is on the decks and my sweet friend Marc comes over to pour Koury a drink. Koury sits on the banquet and takes in the scenery (as all good photographers seem to do). Felicia and I dance close and look over the crowd, gossiping in each other's ear. (He's fine, he's ok, he looks like he does steroids, ewww.) After trying out our samba moves that we picked up from "So You Think You Can Dance." We decide it's time to take it to the next spot: Marquee.
Marquee is usually a nightmare to me. Most of the crowd seems, well- to say the very least- unoriginal, and the celebrities on most nights are well- C list. However the doormen, and security have always been sweet as pie to me and the Malik (the promoter) is always such a gracious and welcoming host. I stand by Malik at his table when a man approaches us.
"The Coreys would like you two to join them if you would like." He says pointing to the table where the troubled and now reality television show resurrected 80's icons sit.
"What do you think?" Malik says to me.
"Could be interesting." I say as we start to walk to their table.
Corey Haim grabs my hand immediately. "In another lifetime, we would have already been married." He says slightly under his breath.
"Quoi?" I say. Not quite understanding what he meant by that.
He doesn't repeat what he says, but he introduces me to his mother. Corey Feldman give a nod as he holds the small of his wife's back.
We all walk outside together. There are photographers waiting to snap their pictures. Corey talks to me in a low voice. "So, what are you? Black and White? Hispanic and Black? Whatever you are...I am liking it." He says holding my hand.
This is probably the worse pick up line I have ever heard and I have had some doozies.
"What do you do for a living?" He says. His stare is intense as his mother stands slightly behind him.
"Oh a little of this and a little of that." I hand him my business card. He seems impressed.
"This has your cell on it? Can I call you on it." He says putting the card into his wallet.
"Sure." I say. This seems so surreal. I still remember watching him in "License To Drive" like it was yesterday.
"I'm going to call you girl, and you better pick up the line." He says with a smile. He reintroduces me to his mother. I remind him that he already introduced me to her inside. Then he introduces me to Corey Feldman. Feldman kisses me on the cheek and introduces me to his wife.
I leave to meet with the German. It's 4am, and I have to be at the office by 9am, but want to I look over his photographs with him from his modeling shoot earlier that day. He still has the make up on from the shoot. Even with make-up, he is incredibly masculine. I tell him the story of the night.
"I'm sorry. I don't know who those men are, ‘The Coreys' but it seems like a bazaar night." He says with his German accent.
(me in front of a picture of my friend NOSM on the L.E.S. 3am)
The night started with tea on the roof in Chinatown and ended with Robin Thicke, and a performance by Eve, and Chamillionaire.
A new friend from Germany joined me on my rooftop in Chinatown early Thursday evening to watch the sunset, to drink tea, and to talk a little shop. A networking meeting can take place at any time of day or night in New York City. Both of us are in the world of production and entertainment, he also happens to be a part time model whose first modeling job was a four page spread in Bazaar magazine this past fall (Lucky man? Or Lucky me?). After tea we both began to get an onslaught of texts from friends giving as a veritable smörgåsbord (if you will) of options from the evening:
"Dom is spinning at the Dark Room and Plumm later, you should go!"
"The Grande, Azza, or Pink Elephant? Where are you headin?"
"Stereo is going to be poppin' tonight."
My German friend and I decide to start the evening off by saying hi to one of his promoter friends at Sutra on the Lower East Side.
The crowd was thin at Sutra, but the music was great (and it was still early in the evening). After getting cozy on the couch, the German and I talked to the promoter and his wife while sipping Sapporo's and listing to their story of how they met.
"I was visiting from France...I saw him, and thought he was beautiful. " The promoter's wife says beaming.
The promoter pulls out his Polaroid camera and takes a picture of his wife. She sits up, poses, and smiles for him.
"I came over to talk to him. After a few minuets I tell him ‘You should marry me!' and he said ‘OK!'" She laughs, as her husband takes her hand and sits beside her.
They have been married one year now. I heart Le romance. Le sigh.
The German and I finish our drinks and take a cab over to the PM Buzz party at The Grand and all the while talk of the dating scene in New York.
"I think it's very hard to date here." The German says, "Too many beautiful women." He says with a smile.
I laugh and say slyly, "Oh, yes, it must be very difficult for you."
He corrects himself and says, "No, I mean, yes, there are many beautiful women, but no one wants anything real here." He says softly.
I tell him that I disagree, I think New Yorkers not only want the real thing, they don't want to settle for anything but the best. This is perhaps why there are so many singles in their 30's and 40's here, people still want to find their heart's desire.
We pop into The Grand and say hi to our host Danny. Despite his broken phone he greets everyone with a smile and is looking out for all his guests. After a little dancing and drinks the German and I head to our next destination- Stereo.
Despite the long line, we go straight in as a friend is promoting that night. One of the lovely things about going out frequently is- if you know the promoter and the door guys (and you're a girl!) you don't wait in a line.
Upon walking in hand and hand, the German and I spot Robin Thicke sitting on a banquet.
"That looks like Eve sitting next to him." The German says.
"That's because it is Eve." I say.
While the German mingles- I watch as Mike Satsky (the handsome co-owner of Stereo) navigate from checking in on DJ Suss One to taking care of VIP. He had his hands full that night from Chamillionaire to Zoe Kravitz. I stand and talk to security, I always find them to be more interesting then celebrities! They are usually great humble guys with great stories. I walk to towards the DJ booth and Suss One and I give each other a nod as Eve makes her way down to the dance floor. Eve is handed a mic and does short set of her songs. The camera phones are raised in the air as the audience becomes paparazzi. Robin Thick retreats to the back along with a string of celebrities to a private after party in the back room.
Later, the German and I decide to walk for a while through Chelsea. Walking through NYC at 4am on a beautiful night is a very freeing experience. The city is quiet for a moment and you can hear every word of the person you are with. As I begin to feel as if I were on a placid sea, I remember that I had a day job. Dang, Le Reality. I give the German a warm good-bye and head home for sleep, or a rather a nap, before work.
(me and my best friend matt)
