Florent.

If you have never lived in New York, you may not be familiar with Florent. It was a 24-hour diner in the Meatpacking District, founded in 1985, that had to close a few years ago because of a rent hike. New York Magazine ran a lovely homage to the restaurant when they heard the news. Florent was a New York institution, and when its biggest fans found out about its fate, things started disappearing.

Florent has a fervid following that includes (but is not limited to) neighborhood stalwarts, fashion icons, queer activists, famous drag performers, eccentric night owls, club kids, the offspring of club kids, maverick politicians, burlesque dancers, and celebrities ranging from Lou Reed to Sarah Jessica Parker—some of whom, after learning of the restaurant’s impending closure, have developed a nostalgia-induced kleptomania. “The menus, they have started vanishing!” continued Morellet. Wine lists, saucers, coffee cups, cloth napkins, and silverware have also gone missing in recent weeks.

I guess I was no different, but I took something that patrons are expected to snatch as souvenirs at all kinds of venues – matchbooks. They had different illustrations of diner objects on them – a salt shaker, a fork – and each featured a shade of (what I, perhaps inaccurately, remember to be) Florent's signature shade of green on the inside. I took three different ones with me the last time I ever visited the restaurant, intent on memorializing them in some way.

And then, in the confusion of re-organizing during my last move… they disappeared. That is, until the frenzy of making things hit me – I was digging deep in my closet this morning to find acrylic paint, and grabbed a plastic container wondering why the heck I had held onto it. I felt something shake inside. And there they were. I tore into my Florent-green paper, found an empty frame, and now I have a new little friend in my kitchen – one that makes me pause and imagine countless Saturday and Sunday dawns in the 1990s, with gold glitter heels under metal tables, false eyelashes falling into coffee, and cigarette butts strewn into ditches among cobblestones.

Do read the New York Magazine article, regardless of where you live. It's a beautiful time capsule.

Five Years.

Yesterday marked five years since I drove one-way to New York.



I don't talk about New York much – whenever I start to, I lose all of my words. Enjoy the song – for various reasons, Bizarre Love Triangle is the one that reminds me of the city the most.

The 1980s NYC Subway

Lisa emailed me a link last week while I was traveling to America's Dairyland, and it made me miss home so much that I felt a tug in my chest. Subway, lifeblood. features photos taken in and around the NY subway system in the 1980s. I frequently daydream about what NYC must have been like in the 80s, mostly because it sounds like it was a completely different, dark, scary, underground world. Also because of my now four-year fascination with Basquiat. I can't believe I didn't blog about watching Downtown 81 after I saw it, because it blew my mind and sent me on a daydreaming spiral for another few months. It's a movie about underground art and music in 1980s NY in the 80s, and stars Jean-Michel himself (I should watch it again and do the whole screenshot/blog post thing). ANYWAY. Here are some of the shots that made me swoon the most:


Bruce Davidson


Bruce Davidson


John F. Conn


Jamel Shabazz

Here is the closing scene from Downtown 81; I regularly drift off thinking about this. Driving up what seems like the FDR as the sun is considering coming out, the fuzzy notes from Suicide's Cheree perfectly matching the light, mood, everything. I have felt similarly in the past when walking to breakfast with my dear friend Zachary* at 7am after a night of dancing, watching the East Village slowly wake up and open its doors.



Again, here is the link to Subway, lifeblood. on 24 Flinching; check out the rest of the pictures. Heartbreaking.

*Look for a post about Zachary soon!

EFIT for April 2nd

I was overjoyed to get a message from my friend Julie on Thursday afternoon with the subject "Last minute EFIT?" We did our 5th long-distance one the next day (Friday, April 2nd).

For those who don't know – and there's surprisingly little on the Internet about it – EFIT stands for Ett foto i timmen, which is Swedish for (loosely) one photo an hour. I think typically it's a one-person project, but we like to do them together and share how we each see the world on an average day. I've never done one during a work day because I always feared the pictures would end up boring, but it was actually really fun.

10.23


11.53


12.45p


1.10p


2.42p


3.22p


4.35p


5.25p


6.32p


7.38p


8.09p


9.56p


10.26p


In the past, I've posted some of Julie's photos as well, but I always feel weird about uploading pictures other people have taken onto any web space of my own. Like I'm not supposed to or something. Trust me: they were great.

Helsinki x New York

Today I was finally able to read a piece that James wrote on Urban Omnibus called My Living Room.

It's about his recent move from New York (after living here for eight years); and all of the things that he now misses (but had to move to Helsinki to pinpoint). It's really touching, and made my heart feel very tight and small. They are things that are truly in danger of being taken for granted, if one lives here. It's not about the bustle, skyline, or "never sleeps" thing, per se, but more specific things that all ladder up to that stuff in a New York City gestalt kind of way.

The numbered grid system. You don’t realize that something as prosaic as First Avenue and 24th Street could be so brilliant until you’re standing at the intersection of two streets named Tarkk’ampujankatu and Korkeavuorenkatu, trying to find Raatimiehenkatu.

White noise. Sirens, radios, trucks backfiring, shouting matches, and the ambient thrum of radiators, air conditioners, and ventilation systems – this constant background chatter is the oxygen of city life, the thing that keeps me plugged in.

Bodegas. The equivalent here are Kioskiis, which are only open until 9pm, closed on Sundays, and they don’t sell flowers, pastrami sandwiches, hammers, bagels, kites, cake mixes, or bhangra CDs.

I've been thinking about places recently, and have wondered why all of the towns I've lived in still haunt me sometimes. Even though I'm more happy in New York than I remember being anywhere else. It can feel silly. While I was in Richmond last weekend, I felt little pricks of nostalgia every time I saw something that was a regular part of my life there: the rocks I used to walk along on the James River, the coffee shops I used to frequent, my favorite restaurant, even the familiar grooves in certain parts of the streets. While thinking about missing all of this stuff, I remembered something a good friend said once:


It's true, isn't it. And a little bit comforting /reassuring. At least we weren't so sick of the place and desperate to leave that we have that "good riddance" attitude about it all. Bittersweet.

I'm going to shut up now, because this post is really about James's piece. Here is the link again, because I liked it so much. There are also some really interesting comparisons between New York and Helsinki, like the layout of buildings; the impact of the weather on how rooftops are built; the cultural integration prohibiting the existence of hubs (like Chinatown, for instance); etc. Read it!

幸せ

I have been a little scarce as of late; my final week in New York before the holidays was a crazy one... lots of stuff happened not limited to work (which was stressful in itself). I hope everybody had a lovely holiday. When I'm visiting my family, I tend to lay low and get into everything analogue; I play my upright piano from childhood, type on my father's old typewriter and listen to vinyl on my mother's record player. I'm taking a slight break now to share this though:


Last month, a man stopped me on the street asking if he could take my photo for "a magazine." Little did I know at the time that it was for Elle Girl Tokyo! Each month they feature a different city, and December's is New York. exciting. It pretty much looks to me like a twee version of The Sartorialist.


They update with one girl a day. I wonder if this is only on the web site, or if they put it in the paper version? Babelfish turned up with quite the hilarious translation, which I'm hoping to have corrected by some of my Japanese friends.

Inserting favorite music in ipod, her who is in the midst of shopping. Under P coat of grey original T shirt of local radio bureau. Collecting the bottoms with the black denim and the sneaker, the pop street style completes! You observe, to also small article errand such as hand made muffler and tear drop sunglasses.

I think I'm more excited about this than I should be. _

the places that just exist.

guacamole, wine, salami, cheese, pita
Originally uploaded by tokyohanna.

While I love the endless string of THINGS that happen in New York every day (thus rendering me never-bored), my favorite parts of this fair little city are the ones I can discover that just exist.

Last Saturday I forced myself out of bed and went to Whole Foods with my friend Marc. We got a bunch of things (see photo) and went on an adventure. We rode the 6 train up to 103rd Street. I had never been that far uptown before... I think the highest I had ever been was when I went to Cooper Hewitt for the Design Triennial.

We walked a bit until we got to one of the coolest pairs of art nouveau iron gates I have ever seen. We set up at the tippy top of Central Park and were there for a few hours. Marc drew and took photos, I wrote and took photos and played Tetris on my 1994 Gameboy (had to superglue the screen back on but it still works wonderfully). We both had a feast. Looking around the park at the different groups of people laying around, followed by walking down paths and through little secret-ish gardens was the best thing I've done in a long time. Summer is here (and I have also equipped myself with a brand new air conditioner for it YAY).

So. Lately I have been wondering about where to post what. I have this blog, our new Naked site and four other blogs sprinkled around the Net... what I guess I'll do is post most of my comms/brand-related stuff over on House of Naked from now on. Occasional brand thingies might slip in here and there simply because it's part of my life, but you get the idea.

Marc Bouwer Fall 2007

Marc Bouwer Fall 2007
Originally uploaded by tokyohanna.

I went to the Marc Bouwer Fall 2007 show tonight (Fashion Week has started!). My friend Diana works for the shoe supplier (Michael Antonio), and wasn't in town to take photographs (to be included in newsletter /email). She asked me to take her place.

I was beyond flattered, especially since I have my humble (but loved) 3.2mp Minolta Dimage Xg. Because of this, some of the photographs that could have been stupendous came out blurry, but I don't even care. It was a wonderful experience, and I loved Marc's collection. I hadn't heard of him prior to this, but he has worked under Halston and the entire Fall 2007 line reminded me of a cross between Badgley Mischka and Oscar de la Renta. gorgeous. View the few of the better photos at my Flickr set.