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On one of the first warm Saturdays of this year, hundreds of New Yorkers flocked to the popular High Line, the railway-turned-public park that extends over 22 blocks of Manhattan, to bid farewell to a T-Rex-sized pigeon. The pigeon, cast out of aluminum and named “Dinosaur,” had been a resident of its elevated perch since
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Before moving to New York City, I had a particular vision of what my life as a writer in this fabled land of opportunity would look like. I’d wear sleek, black turtlenecks and skinny jeans. I’d go to diners and eat bagels. I’d defy the caloric calculus and stay svelte. I’d write at my window
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I probably sound naive, but February always struck me as a month that should be full of hope – brimming with the type of optimism that comes from new beginnings. At least here in New York, though, it was grim. Everything feels more expensive. Everyone’s temper seems as short as the blink-and-you’ll-miss-them daylight hours. And
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Over the past few years, I’ve written regularly for this magazine about my devotion to New York City. I love the cultish exercise classes that test your psychological mettle and the cryptic linguistic idiosyncrasies of the people you meet here. I love the know-it-all doormen – the actual kings of Gotham – and that any
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A few weeks before the end of the year, I was invited to a house party at which I had the misfortune of becoming embroiled in a conversation with a man I’ll call Joe, because his name was Joe and I don’t feel inclined to offer him the dignity of a pseudonym. There’s a theory
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In some ways, it feels like I stepped off the plane at JFK from London mere days ago – wide-eyed, naive and still convinced that “winter” would be charming and cozy rather than a six-month endurance test in avoiding frostbite. Yet here I am, somehow entering my sixth year of participating in the annual pageant
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These telegenic expat firebrands have begun to redefine the contours of the right
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You become a real New Yorker when you’ve mastered the delicate, near-mystical art
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She’s often forgotten among the suffragettes, but her story is just as important
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The supermarket is a kind of secular religion with frozen orange chicken as communion
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The rodents grace T-shirts, mugs and cups
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Maureen Callahan challenges us to ask whether our American heroes are really who we think they are
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Giving blood is the closest thing to an act of altruism in a world of depravity and selfishness
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Staten Island shouldn’t be overlooked
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One of the most entrenched rules in life is that the grass is always greener on the other side. It seems doubly true for women
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The city is a psychological assault course, an emotional minefield, for people like me who are chronically apologetic
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They know your secrets — for good or ill
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Gen Zers are quite right to call time on a lifestyle that glamorizes overtime, burnout and the ceaseless rat race
‘D’you know what the acronym MBA stands for?’ The 27 -year-old who asked me this had a deep tan and fluorescent teeth. He may have winked, but the eye twitch was more likely a nervous tic from looking at himself in the mirror so much. I responded with a look of indifference tinged with fear.
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Does my celebrity neighbor think I’m a stalker?
