Flying by the seat of your pants is a skill that cannot be taught. But practice sure makes perfect. Save Pin FB More. Longchamp KC. Longchamp Emily.
Longchamp Uptown Marni. Longchamp Lana. Longchamp Marni. But I'm still excited about making the leap north of 14th street, I am! But I'm curious, does your look fit the general vibe of your neighborhood, or are you the lone tattoo-covered, black-clad gal with piercings making her way through a sea of Bugaboos? Rewards Free Stuff Promos.
So today I signed a lease on an apartment waay uptown , like almost falling-off the island uptown neighborhood is called Hudson Heights--it's got parks, strollers, hills, water views, and I love it. This is not a bad thing, she insists. She wouldn't go Downtown, but is happy that some of the fancy, funky ways are coming up.
So, I have the beginning of an answer, although it scrambles easy divisions: Uptown is becoming more like Downtown, and, given the elegance of my Downtown berths, vice versa. However, all of the action over the past few years on the tourist front has been Downtown. It's something the grandes dames seem conscious of. I get into a conversation over lunch with the general manager in the Pierre's elegant dining room. The grandes dames, he says, if they have any sense, need to strike a fine balance.
Yes, guests now expect hi-tech rooms; but they need to maintain their signature old-world ways. In a city that's so obsessed by the new - especially Downtown - the point is to remain timeless. You don't want to see skateboarders in the lobby of the Pierre. What you're more likely to see instead are guests making their way into the Grand Ballroom, into some glamorous society wedding the sort that gets a big hurrah in the pages of the New York Times style section.
Or perhaps quiet business is being done - a few words, a million dollars - in the Rotunda, with its trompe l'oeil murals. Make your way to your room, and you'll be greeted by one of the few remaining lift attendants in New York. And while it strikes you as odd that somebody should spend their days pressing buttons, I like it. And I like it that when I get into my room on the thirty-seventh floor, I can see Central Park stretching out before me. I suppose I like it because it seems the way it's meant to be - classic New York.
A few days later, this sense of walking through a picture-book New York is perhaps even stronger at the Plaza, right up against the park, where the staff are so graceful you want to hug them. Popping out of the Pierre or the Plaza for a constitutional, to test further the classic New York theory, you'll find one of the loveliest walks - and New York is all about walking, the grid allowing you to drift with no fear of getting lost - by heading north up Fifth Avenue, past the Frick Collection and, further on, the Met, before reaching Carnegie Hill, beyond 90th Street.
This is the heart of old, gilded age, money, where the nineteenth century met the twentieth; the area Woody Allen considers the most handsome part of the city. The pace is slower here; it's New York for flneurs. A friend invites me for a drink at the Peninsula - another 'grande dame', on 55th Street, a great spot from which to gaze down Fifth Avenue. Again, this is a classic 'New York Experience' to tick off and, as a visitor, you can't help but feel a little self-conscious as the after-work flirting goes on all around.
But it'd be daft to deny yourself the pleasure; that would be behaviour worthy of those poor austere souls who resist visiting the wondrous Empire State because it's too 'touristy'. Downtown, by contrast, it's not entirely access all areas. If you want to get a much-sought-after evening spot on the roof terrace of 60 Thompson, my next berth, you'll need a card that activates the lifts.
Apart from residents, handed one when they check in, the hotel only sends them out to Manhattan groovers. A couple of times, people - interlopers - slip into the lift while I'm in there and make a great show of trying to find their cards before I oblige.
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