I took a last-minute trip to New York at the end of August, where I spent my mornings doing archival research and my afternoons and evenings catching up with friends. It’s been almost five years since I graduated from NYU and moved back to Canada—in that time, so much about the city has changed, but I still have my little routines. I love the ritual of return, especially to people I care so much about. Since that is what most of going to New York is for me, this is a less detailed travel dispatch than others I have done recently, and is more focused on going back to things than trying new lots of new ones.
Tuesday
I spend the morning at an archive in East Harlem, then take a quick nap at my hotel before meeting my friend M.A.—who is about to move back to LA—for a walk around Lower Manhattan. We stop at Strand first (I get discounted Marilynne Robinson) and then have a late lunch at Little Ruby’s, followed by the best ice cream in the city at Sundaes & Cones (I continue to have dreams about this place, as well as nightmares in which it closes). McNally Jackson is my other must-go spot, and though I miss their old location, the new store feels bigger and I find several treasures, walking out with Gwendoline Riley’s My Phantoms, Danielle Dutton’s Prairies, Dresses, Art, Other, Joan Didion’s Political Fictions, and a sweatshirt.
After saying good-bye to M.A., I grab a slice of pizza and a ticket to India Donaldson’s Good One at Village East. It’s such a clever debut with some of the most realistic performances I’ve seen in a longtime. It has been said that this is a film about inter-generational rifts, but I think it’s more about a careless misogyny that may be timeless: the title signals an awkward joke, but also a line from the film where the adult men refer to the 17-year-old protagonist as a “good one” because she actually pays attention to how other people feel. Donaldson is a sharp observer of gendered emotional labour without ever being preachy or pat. It’s also surprisingly funny and I love a lot of the shots.
Wednesday
It’s hot today and the city is a bowl of boiling, burning soup. On days like this I try to take the bus instead of the subway so that I don’t have to wait in a sweaty un-air-conditioned station. It’s also a meditative place to read and I get through a huge chunk of Jacqueline Harpman’s I Who Have Never Known Men, which has been sitting on my TBR for ages. Unfortunately this strategy makes me late for lunch in the Flatiron area with one of my favourite professors from undergrad, but we have a lovely time eating salad and pasta and catching up anyways.
From there, I change into *sporty clothes* and head to East Williamsburg for cake and cold drinks with my friends C and M.V. We go to someone’s birthday party in the park where we play a surprisingly intense game of kickball as the sun sets. Since there are seldom opportunities for sprinting in adult life, I’m surprised how sore I am as I make my way back to Manhattan. After a cold shower, I’m eating a poke bowl in bed, watching Hacks, and feeling so cozy (hotels absolutely rule).
Thursday
I go straight from the archive to Greenpoint where I meet C and L for a late brunch (egg sandwich and fries with a Mexican Coke for me). Then we do some vintage shopping at the obligatory spots: Beacon’s Closet (realistic) and Dobbin St Co-op (aspirational). I get a gingham maxi dress with buttons up the front for $11 and a boxy plaid blazer for $24. In the evening, I get back on the subway and meet my former roommate at Malaparte in the West Village where we sit outside and drink orange wine, eat seared tuna, rigatoni, and chocolate cake, and coo over the sweet golden retriever named Poppy who is sitting next to us.
Friday
After the final morning of archive visits, I have vegan curry for lunch at La Botaniste and go to MoMA to see the LaToya Ruby Frazier solo show, Monuments of Solidarity. I’m familiar with Frazier’s previous video and photo work about families in Flint, but less so with her larger practice which spans intimate photos of her and her mother, protest performances, and documentation of labour movements throughout working communities in the Midwest. I am now firmly a fan. I also have time to stop in at the Isaac Julien installation, Lessons of the Hour, which is a multi-channel video exploring scenes from the life of Frederick Douglass and meditating on the political important of early photography. In the gift shop I get two fridge magnets (Frida Kahlo, Louise Bourgeois) and two postcards (Frazier and David Wojnarowicz).
By the hotel, I grab whatever snacks from Trader Joe’s will fit in my suitcase, then change for dinner with my friend E at Thai Diner in Nolita. It has come highly recommended and I don’t remember it being there when I lived in LES (many moons ago, now), but I love the vibe and the food rocks. We chase it with a final visit to Sundaes & Cones. :’)
Saturday


I sleep in a little since nothing opens early on the weekend anyways and then pack, which turns out to be more challenging than anticipated (mostly because of the Trader Joe’s mini-haul). Finally, I check out and grab an iced rose cardamom tea latte from Stumptown, then take a leisurely walk through ABC carpet & home (a girl can dream!!) and Union Square Farmers Market on my way to meet my friend Akosua (of
) for brunch. We go to my favourite spot in the city, a very classic, unpretentious diner in the Village called La Bonbonniere (who are currently fundraising for renovations!). French Toast and a banana milkshake are the best way to end the trip—and entice me to come back.Thank you for reading No Outlet! If you liked this, you might enjoy these (more detailed) travel diaries from earlier in 2024:
This made me wanna go to New York
miss our NYC trip too!