The Arts in New York City

I remember dreaming of being rich and having a big house with maids and butlers to wait on my every need when I was younger. Oh yes, and a personal chef would be nice too. However, as I got older, I’ve realized that although on a worldwide scale, I’m living in the richest country, on a more local level….not so much.

While I was once bothered by not living in the glamorized New York that is often  in film and literature, I’ve come to terms with my current location. That’s not to say that the beauty of Manhattan is not accessible, in fact, the trip there takes no time at all. However, the difference is one glamorous train ride away, in contrast to a step out of a fancy apartment complex on Central Park West.

Central Park is one of the first things that makes me think of a “wealthy” New York. Preferably at night, and preferably in a horse drawn carriage. In this aspect, the rooftop view from the Anthony Caro exhibit is the perfect example. The lighting, the height, the scenery. Not to mention the plethora of pretentious individuals drinking their fancy martinis. It was a scene that could have easily taken place in a film about upscale New Yorkers.

However, I’ve come to decide Central Park might not be the safest place at night. Maybe I’ve watched too many movies, but I’ve heard far too mugging stories for the glory of Central Park to prevail after dark. In addition, I’ve come to decide  that horse drawn carriages are not only inhumane, but smelly. Alas, arises the dilemma of selecting my ideal image of  “Uptown/wealthy New York.”

After watching Woody Allen’s “Manhattan,” a scene that has prevailed with me is the infamous image of Diane Keaton and Allen under the Brooklyn. Although I’ve walked the Brooklyn Bridge, I’ve never been to the exact location of the scene (mainly because I couldn’t find it). Perhaps I’ve linked it’s unattainable prestige with its unattainable location. Nonetheless, this image of the Manhattan skyline from just outside this city is an image that captures the splendor of this city. The city has a particular allure to it after sunset, with the buildings illuminated and the moon shining bright. From afar, the city seems so tranquil, and yet full of life at the same time.

The view from the bridge creates the illusion that when one enters Manhattan, they are entering a new world. A world isolated by this moat that we call the East River. A world full of magic. A world full of opportunity, and of people rushing through life, trying to seize that opportunity.

Yes, my image of wealthy Manhattan is one of many ideologies. But maybe that’s because in the back of my mind I’m still dreaming of maids, butlers and a life of privilege. Nevertheless, I shall enjoy the splendor of my city, regardless of my current location. After all, you don’t need to live in the Upper East Side to be a true New Yorker.

Well, I must confess—I really haven’t spent much time in Uptown!  I’m a Long Island girl who generally spends most of her time in Midtown (shopping, duhhhh).  But continuing with the shopping train of thought, there’s no more famous area for that in Uptown than 5^th Avenue.  I’ve only been in one store on 5^th Avenue, and I think it’s safe to say that it was the fanciest store I’ve ever been in in my entire life (I’ve walked by the Paris Louis Vuitton, but I didn’t go in.  That just would’ve been embarrassing).  So which store was it?  I’ll give you some hints:  It has crystal-clear jewelry cases, gleaming silver as far as the eye can see, and lots and lots of little blue boxes.  I’m sure the girls know what I’m talking about—Tiffany and Co, the mecca of 925 sterling silver.

The only time I’ve ever been in Tiffany’s was right after my 16^th birthday in May 2009.  My parents bought me a ring for my birthday from there, but it was a size too big for my baby hands (seriously, they’re really small.  In high school I had to buy the skinniest class ring to keep it from looking like clown jewelry).  The day we went into the city to get it resized also happened to be an abnormally hot day, so by the time we walked to 57^th street I was nice and sweaty.  Not the best way to make a 5^th Avenue entrance, trust me.  But when I walked in, all was forgotten as I felt a gust of cool air and was blinded by the gleam of the beautiful silver.

…Not really, but if I was Audrey Hepburn that might’ve happened.  Although I truly had never been surrounded by so much beautiful jewelry before in my life…and so much beautiful jewelry I could never even dream of owning.  So sad!  But I digress—I was not there to browse, I was there on serious business!  I had a ring to get resized!  So in we went to the elevators, and I remember I was amazed that there was actually a man inside who pushed the buttons for you!  The wealthy don’t even have to push their own elevators buttons!  No wonder my 12 year-old niece aspires to be a trophy wife.

When we got off at the customer service floor, I was even more amazed.  The only customer service rooms I had ever been in were at Macy’s and Kohls, and both of those are pretty bland and miserable.  Not at Tiffany’s!  Plush couches and coffee tables replaced plastic chairs and crying babies (although there really wasn’t a need for coffee tables, since I think you would probably get thrown out if you ate in there).  When our turn finally came, we sat at a little booth that had blinders on the side so you couldn’t see the other customers (I guess people like to keep their jewelry problems private nowadays?).  The lady who helped me was shockingly nice—she not only quickly resized my ring by spinning it around in what I assume is called the magic ring-resizer machine, she also gave me a free silver polishing cloth and offered to steam-clean the Tiffany necklace I was wearing free of charge!  I’d never had better customer service in my life!  I later recounted the story to my aunt, who was disappointingly unimpressed—“That’s what they’re supposed to do.  You paid all that money for their jewelry; they want to keep you happy.”  Maybe so, but nobody could put a damper on my little glimpse into the lifestyle of the rich and famous 5^th Avenue shopper.  So even though Tiffany’s is by default my image of Uptown, I would say that it’s a pretty good one.  And to the Hollywood movie producers who are undoubtedly reading my blog—if you ever decide to remake Breakfast at Tiffany’s, call me.  Seriously.  My range in incredible.  My only request it that you let me eat breakfast at the Tiffany’s customer service coffee table instead of in a café across the street.

To be honest, it took me a while to come up with something that epitomized my idea of wealthy NYC. I tried to think of stuff that was really expensive. It took a while for the answer to come to me but when it did, I was so HAPPY!! I started doing a little dance because I was so excited, but thankfully, nobody was home.

When I think of wealthy NYC, I think of people worrying about the smallest things and affording the most expensive things. Sometimes when people have a lot of money, they’ll buy an expensive car, diamonds, travel the world. But other times, rich people pay a crazy amount of money for something that’s gonna pass right through them.

A few years ago, I went with my mom and dad to Madison Avenue. We were just looking from store to store and walked in to a store, whose name I never paid attention to. We were looking around. My dad wandered off and did some exploring on his own. It was just me and my mom. We saw things that we were unfamiliar with. My mom, being my mom, pointed at these soft, round, wet things and asked a lady what it was. The lady scoffed, looked at my mom, said “CAVIAAAR,” and walked away. She was an incredibly rich and rude lady. My mom looked at me, shook her head and said we should leave, so I found my dad and we all left the store, never to return again.

Sometimes, what people are willing to pay, let’s say for something to eat, is RIDICULOUS!

I heard about caviar being a luxury delicacy and it being really expensive. It kind of made sense as to why rich people would pay for something like that. But when I found out that caviar is fish eggs, my mind was blown. I just could not understand why someone would pay so much money to eat fish eggs. I googled the price and found it to be roughly $100 per ounce of caviar. I find that to be a crazy amount of money to throw away like that. Some people actually like caviar and that’s great. Others just say they like it because they’re “supposed” to, because they’re rich, because they can afford it.