Happy birthday Wolf!
New York City. I tip my hat to you. A barista told me “you have to be strong to live in New York City”. Fuck yes you do.
When I got on the ferry to go to Liberty Island I was like- how do I walk on here? This is scary! But by the time I got off I was pretty good at it and In fact it was kind of fun. That’s how I feel about functioning in NYC.
The city itself doesn’t give a fuck. But the individuals, when you make eye contact and smile, are nice.
Everyone openly smokes cigarettes, which I love.
The men wear more cologne than I’m accustomed to.
We had a terrifying taxi ride.
The NYPD are sexy beasts.
The Statue of Liberty was like when we visit the Black Isis in Iowa. On a much bigger scale. The tour and monuments were very pro immigrant and it’s an interesting contrast to what’s in the news right now.
I tried to go to the store Enchantments but it’s closed on Tuesdays.
New York City fashion- most people dress practical (zero fucks, remember) but there was a theme:
-Crop Tank tops that are muscle cut
-linen pants that are high waisted but show your ankles and are loose at the bottom
-clunky shoes or Roman like sandals
-Bobby pins. So many Bobby pins
-thick headbands
-the color “champagne”
Speaking of clothes, I brought two large bags of clothes. And have worn the same pair of Walmart jean shorts every single day. And maybe 3 T-shirts (don’t worry, Beyoncé). Plus a hoodie I got in Salem. Which should be it’s own blog post.
I saw people from all over the world. Heard over a dozen languages. I asked everyone “where were you born?” And they happily told me their stories.
I want to end with a big thank you to the man from Israel who bought our liquor as we were leaving town. He asked me not to put his picture on the internet. And when I asked why he bought our alcohol he said “one good deed a day”. Cheers!
Witch Mama 