Hey everybody! Today I just wanted to share my thoughts about the grand New York City. To tell you the truth, I don’t visit the city often so I’m not so acquainted with the myriad of activities that take place there. If I were to visit the city, it would probably be for attending a school or family event. Maybe my reason for not frequenting New York City as much is due to the relentless traffic and bustling activity that occurs there (I enjoy peaceful areas where everyone is not in a hurry to do something). Nevertheless, from what I have seen in New York City so far through my experience in traveling via subways, attending events and what not, I can definitely say wealthy New York displays a lot of grandiloquence and simultaneously, poverty.

I remember when I traveled to the city with my family one time to have dinner. While seated in the restaurant (forgot which one), I was perusing through the menu to see what was available and was astonished to see the exorbitant prices of meals. In my head, I was thinking only the wealthy must feast here. Then came the moment when I turned to the burger section and saw the whopping price for an ordinary cheeseburger deluxe: $29.95! I can get a delectable burger for $8.95 at the Diner, I thought. Regardless of the price, I decided to try out the cheeseburger to see what made it so “special and costly.” After the meal, I was utterly disappointed because the cheeseburger tasted the same as other burgers I previously had and was burned. In fact, I felt my mom even made tastier burgers at home. However, I noticed that the beautiful environment the restaurant provided for its customers compensated for the expensive items on the menu, and things became more lucid for me.

In addition to my anecdote above, I feel that Uptown (wealthy) New York really shows the unequal distribution of wealth among the different social strata. For example, the powerful business magnates and other elite groups make up the majority of the wealth, despite being composed of the smallest percentage of workers on the list. I recall seeing several people in the city wearing their lavish business attires and polished shoes and then witnessing the destitution of the city by people begging for money on the subways. This illustrated to me the juxtaposition between the rich and the poor and made me have an epiphany, which was extreme poverty persists even in a city as affluent and modernized as New York. Through all the enormous skyscrapers, extravagantly dressed people, and large business corporations, many instances of impoverishment can still be seen with the homeless and jobless people living on the streets. New York City may be a dream destination for many people, but even in a wonderland like New York imperfections exist.

Furthermore, whenever I hear “New York City” I imagine about the beautiful display of lights throughout the city, the innumerable, yellow taxi cabs hurriedly sending people to their destinations, and all the activities that occur. But, I also think about the poor people who are struggling to find stabilization in their lives and are making that attempt to reach the upper part of the social class. After feeling out of place by all the “wealthy” individuals on the roof exhibit of Anthony Caro, I knew how the lower class people must have felt.

When everyone hears about “New York City” they think about the opportunities available, the grandeur and spectacular shows, and the delicious banquets and fancy parties. Little do they know that New York is also a place where millions are still searching for jobs and making every effort possible to support themselves and their family. Overall, if New York City is a place where many dreams are fulfilled, it is also a region where the most desirous of dreams vanish gradually into the thin air, never to be seen again.

When I read this question (I often read them aloud) I instantly thought and shouted, bow ties! Unfortunately, my brother was in the kitchen with me and being a fan of Doctor Who he said, “bow ties are cool!” Despite their arguable high cool factor, bow ties are quite the fancy accessory like monocles, canes, or fur coats.

When I think of bow ties I’m reminded of my pre-school in Flushing. I desperately wanted to stay on Long Island with all my friends but my parents thought this private institution would be good for me and being only four years old it was very easy to persuade me, a happy meal would have done the trick. Now at this private school there was a dress code, something that completely boggled my mind. And that’s when it came to my life, a clip on bow tie.

Even though I can’t remember the details of that year I do remember feeling a little out of place there. The parents who would come pick up their kids would always dress so extravagantly and chicly. They reeked of upper class. Some of the kids even at that age seemed spoiled; they didn’t believe that sharing was caring :(. Nevertheless that was the only year I spent in bow-tie school; the next year I returned to my sanctuary, Parkway Elementary School.

The bow tie is a very misunderstood accessory, it is often stereotyped as the nerdy accessory but when I see it my fancy senses often tingle. When I think of bow ties I think of rich sponsors at a charity event, rich professors at esteemed universities, and waiters at those really fancy restaurants where the bread sticks cost like $20. If you don’t believe me just look at these upper class folk:

Stephen Colbert, the quintessence of high class NYC.

Monopoly Man, enough said.

If you disregard the pumpkin and leaves and imagine a stereotypical high class party, mini-Ebrahim is quite fancy.

When my mother and I walked in Uptown, she would always sigh, “This is the true New York City.” To people who live in the poor neighborhoods in New York City, Uptown is a symbol of the city they truly dream about. I am one of them. In this blog entry, I would like to tell a little story about how I perceive New York City. Perhaps, you may feel offended by my story. Nevertheless, it tells the truth about my and many other people’s perception who have similar experience as I do.

As a child growing up in a well-developed modern city, I always view city as a place with only skyscrapers and cars. Any other places with small buildings or houses are considered suburb or country, and suburb is not a place of affluence to me before I came to America. Therefore, when I first arrived in Brooklyn, the first sentence I could think of was “Is this New York City?” In many people’s mind, New York City is the most modernized and affluent city in the world. As the international financial center, the appearance of New York City is certainly the most attractive aspect to many dream pursuers. Therefore, I was surprised that there is a part of New York City that seems like a “country with no field”. Of course, my point of view was soon proved to be extremely narrow after I went to “have a look” at the wealthier part of New York City.

When I walked along Fifth Avenue for the first time, the enormous skyscrapers standing along the street amazed me. I was not amazed by their fanciness or height. I was amazed by the strength of these skyscrapers. Unlike the fancy buildings in a newly developed city, the skyscrapers in New York City are very solemn. No matter how much time has passes, they are still standing with dignity. They give people a sense of steady and sturdy. People immediately feel safe after looking at these buildings. Of course, this feeling has changed slightly over the past ten years, but the solemnity and beauty still remain. I love to see and touch the bricks of the skyscrapers, as they are the witness of time in this wonderful city.

So when you ask me what image I have when I think about Uptown, I will have the same image as the ten-cent postcards of the New York City skylines sell outside of the gift shops. I am very impressed by the architectures because in my mind, they represent a New York City within the New York City. I do not mean the other parts of New York City are not as good; it is just that Uptown is too symbolic to people around the world.

To me, Uptown is a “true” New York City. It appears in exactly the same way as many people perceive it. Yet, it is also a symbol of privilege and wealth. Every time I walk around there, I feel I am only a passenger who never belongs to there. Perhaps this feeling of unfitting will stay with me forever, and so as my love to the augustness and beauty of the skyscrapers.

New York City still impresses me. I’d still love to become a tourist and explore the city. Portrayals of NYC in movies and posters still inspire awe within me. I’ve caught myself numerous times thinking, “Do I seriously live there?”

As a young girl, the city was an attraction to me. I didn’t picture it being a place of shopping, residence or even business. The city was the Statue of Liberty and ferries. It was tall buildings and the Twin Towers. It was lights, bright busy streets, and yellow cabs. I’d gaze at the Christmas tree at Rockefeller Center or the dark sky amidst the daylight illusion that Times Square gave. I had a set image of the city, and this very image was what made me adore NY. The wealthy uptown or the rich ones of NYC never occurred to me.

As I grew up and began exploring the city with a different eye, I came to see its true role and image. As an individual still learning new things everyday, my image of NYC might still be at fault. Regardless, in my eyes, Uptown and wealthy New York is all about business. Doctors and engineers have their fair share of wealth, but the businessmen of NYC are the real moneymakers. NYC is known for its status as a financial center. Wall Street business symbolizes NYC and gives it the image of wealth and prosperity. The streets of the city are filled with men in suits carrying their briefcases, and women in skirts and heels hurrying to work. Along with its skyscrapers and yellow cabs, the image of New York is defined by these businessmen. Being a financial hub of not only the state but the nation as well, businessmen in NYC make it big. They indulge in million dollar conversations and deals that an average New Yorker would never even think of. The unaffordable condominiums and pricey restaurants are there for these men to live on. Due to their riches and lifestyles, these wealthy people are the ones that help create the socioeconomic division of NYC. On one hand, there are cab drivers that struggle to make ends meet. On the other hand, there are these businessmen who spend more money on luxury than an average man’s income.

This image portrays my idea of wealthy New York- a businessman making his way to work. This man might not be a millionaire, but he is definitely much more privileged than an average New Yorker. His concerns aren’t making enough money to pay the bills or the rent, and this is one of the vital sources of division between him and that cab driver. The life of this man is completely different from the bus and train taking life of another. From his style of speaking to his choice of wardrobe, this man’s lifestyle is heavily impacted by his wealth. The exterior looks of a person can always define their economic status, and in this case, wealth and privilege ooze out of every pore of this man. This image just automatically sends messages to my brain and lets it know that we’re looking at a rich New Yorker here. The very automatic response of my brain to link this image with NYC and its wealth, made me chose this picture to represent wealthy NYC.

It must be realized that the choice of this image is subject to change from person to person. To one person this man might just represent an average New Yorker on his way to work, and it might take an image of expensive cars and houses, to actually represent wealthy New York to them. To me however, this image of a businessman making his way to Wall Street is what wealthy New York is.

For me, this logo will always be an image of the elite and the wealthy. This is a theater camp I worked at one summer, and it was there that I truly learned what the upper class was like. The Hamptons always felt like the summer get-away for all those upper class New Yorkers.

I got this job through my AP English teacher, a man I trusted and adored, and I figured he would never steer me wrong. Oh, what a fool I was. Although I lived my whole life on Long Island, I grew up in Mastic and due to the distance, I had never actually been to Westhampton. When I first visited, I was smitten with the clothing boutiques, the trendy cafes, and beautiful buildings. And then I went to work, and realized how loathsome some of these rich folks really were.

The children I was in charge of ranged from age four to fifteen (being that I was only seventeen at the time, it was very difficult to maintain any amount of control over the older ones) and they were the biggest group of spoiled snotrags I will ever have the misfortune to meet. I was a complete outsider in my non-designer khakis, shoes from famous footwear and work-polo. The older ones especially treated me with distaste, they couldn’t quite understand why a young woman would have to (gasp) work for spending money. The idea was as foreign to them as the word “no”.  So, day in and day out, I would listen to them discuss how they were taking the yacht out this weekend or about some marvelous vacation they were about to go on… and then they would of course sneer at me with disgust because I dared to tell them to be quiet and get on stage.

But worse than the over-privileged children (oh, so much worse), were the parents. I spoke with these parents quite frequently as I was in charge of checking the children in and out of the camp each day. Everyday these woman would waddle up to me with their ridiculously oversized Coach handbags, Gucci sunglasses and the perpetual cup of coffee and lecture me on what an absolute doll their children were, how they were just born to be stars. Then they would inform me that they really had to dash because if they didn’t then their kid would be late to piano, karate, swimming, vocal lessons, dance lessons, wood carving lessons, and whatever else they could possibly find to fill their child’s day with so that they wouldn’t actually have to spend any time with their kids. Because once the night came, in came the babysitter while the parents went out and drank white wine spritzers.

Growing up, I didn’t have a boat, I didn’t wear designer clothing, and I certainly didn’t own a beach house. But working in the Hamptons, I realized how much I loved my middle class life. While I might not have been able to go on luxurious vacations every summer, my mom was always there to tuck me in at night. So really, who needs to be Upper Class, or rather…who wants to be?

Home Alone 2: Lost in New York, by far, was one of the greatest movies I have ever seen. I have probably seen this movie close to hundred times, and I still can’t stop laughing every time Marv has a brick thrown to his head off a three story building by 10 year old Kevin McAllister, played by the childhood star Macaulay Culkin. Now before I continue, if there is any doubt as to whether or not Home Alone 2 is artwork I would like to state that film is a form of art and that Home Alone 2 is in fact a film, therefore Home Alone 2: Lost in New York is art. As a kid, if you asked me what Home Alone 2 was about, my exact words would be, “this is a movie about a 10 year old boy, lost in New York, that beats the crap out of two mean burglars in a house full of booby traps. It’s funny!” Ask me the same question today, I would still tell you the same exact thing. But revisiting the movie as an adult, I found that Home Alone 2 also presents a thorough juxtaposition between the wealthy and the poor of New York City in addition to the hilarious climax of the film.

In case you haven’t seen Home Alone 2, and if you haven’t you are deprived individual, the film is about a 10-year old boy, Kevin McAllister, who is separated from his family and ends up on a plane to New York City during the Christmas season. As he travels New York City alone, he experiences the life of a wealthy individual residing in the famous Plaza Hotel and the life of a homeless person taking refuge in Central Park. Although this is only an underlying plot that eventually segues into Kevin trying to stop two criminals from robbing a toy store, the film presents a great deal of insight into the two very distinguishable classes.

Towards the beginning of Home Alone 2, Kevin manages to purchase a magnificent suite at the Plaza Hotel, outside beautiful Central Park, with his father’s credit card. To this day, I can’t think of any other place in New York City that symbolizes the wealthy class more than the Plaza Hotel. In order to emphasize the wealthy class of people that stay at the Plaza Hotel the director, Chris Columbus, decides to have Donald Trump even make a cameo appearance where he gives Kevin directions to the front desk. Even the appearance of the Plaza Hotel sheds a vibe of wealth. Every shot of the hotel inside and out, from the rooms, to the lobby, and even the pool are all stunning. While Kevin resides in the Plaza Hotel, he finds the wealthy life to be very enticing; Kevin doesn’t think twice before ordering one of the nicest rooms in the hotel, room service, and a limo with a personal driver. He even has his underwear dry cleaned! My perception of the wealthy class in New York City always brings me to look back on little Kevin McAllister and his adventures in the Plaza Hotel.

Sadly, the rich life is cut short for Kevin when the hotel manager realizes that the credit card is declared stolen and chases him out of the hotel. Left with nowhere to go, Kevin wanders Central Park at night alone where he encounters the more ominous side to New York City. Kevin finds himself running past what appear to be bums, crazies, prostitutes, and disfigured taxicab drivers. Luckily, a pigeon lady finds Kevin and shows him a lifestyle that reflects a different life filled with hardships that continue to pester the streets of New York City. The less fortunate side of New York City accentuates how highly the wealthy actually live as opposed to those who barely have enough money to afford a place to sleep. If the Plaza Hotel looked great before, it looked like heaven after being found among the real city dwellers.

Home Alone 2: Lost in New York is important to me because it displayed two sides of New York City that I had never seen before as a young boy myself. Since I lived in Queens, I never saw the wealthy life of those who lived in the Plaza Hotel or the desperate life of a homeless person trying to survive on the ruthless streets of New York City after sunset. This film will affect my perception of New York City forever because it was one of the first impressions I obtained of New York City as a kid.

Beautiful

This is Kayla.  One day Kayla, our friend Rachel, our friend Ayelet and I went to the city to celebrate Ayelet’s birthday.  It was a night in February, and we went to eat dinner and subsequently walked through the city streets.  We eventually reached Lincoln Center and saw that New York City Fashion Week was going on. Kayla and Ayelet were ecstatic and tried to convince Rachel and me to try to get in, but we two scaredy cats stayed back while the other two went to talk to the guards.  Don’t ask me how they did it, but long story short, we got into NYC Fashion Week.

Glitz and glamour, shine and posh; that’s the best way I can describe to you what we saw when we walked into the foyer of the building.  Tall, elegantly dressed women surrounded us, the makeup on their faces immaculate.  Designers at every corner, discussing fall 2011’s latest trends, sipping Diet Pepsi from cans using bendable straws.  And a spotless, beautiful Mercedes-Benz was present at the center of the room, a hotspot for photographs. And here we were in the midst of all this, four teenage girls dressed in jeans skirts and fake Uggs.  What were we doing here? How did we ever get in? We kept turning to each other the entire time saying “whoa”, “how classy”, “look at US!”  As a joke, we grabbed some Pepsi too and drank it “very elegantly” with our pinkies raised.  Or maybe it wasn’t so much a joke.

Here we were, four middle-class girls, at an evening event with New York City’s (AND THE WORLD’S, it was Fashion Week after all) greatest socialites, pretending we were part of something much greater than us.  This wasn’t who were were, but it sure was nice to pretend.  Everyone likes to be in the spotlight, and to us, this was an opportunity to enjoy the chic, stylish moment, and drink free soda.  But my usage of the phrase “drink free soda” gives you some insight as to who we truly were, and are.  While it was a fabulous moment for us, and we dwelled on how “classy” we were, but we were in it for the fun and the free stuff.   This opportunity was one we wouldn’t pass up, but at the end of the day, we weren’t going home to our six bedroom apartments on the Upper East Side overlooking Central Park.

A few days after this affair, Kayla and I went to a 99 cent store and wandered the place a bit (in case you needed further proof that my friends and I are not socialites).  We came across the aisle of glass utensils and spotted martini glasses, and were automatically reminded of our “classy night out.”  “Kayla, I want a picture. Grab the martini glass!” I said to her.  “Here, look how classy I am!” she responded, graciously taking the glass off the shelf and holding it as seen above.   Sure, it could be nice to live such a glitzy life, but it’s not who I am.  If I can get the napkins for 99 cents, why spend $10?  And if I have my friends to go to 99 cent stores with me, and we’re happy and have a good time, what do I need to be a part of wealthy New York for?