My Favorite NY Address
520 West 22nd Street has got to be the greatest, weirdest address I've come across in New York City.
Home to Comme Des Garçons, it boasts a glorious tunnel door, surrounded by layers of ads, graffiti on top of ads, and ads on top of graffiti on top of ads.
... and lovely signs new and old...
It feels to me like a nice place to try out your art, to unleash it upon the world tacked to a brick wall.
... as long as you accept that it will soon be consumed by the wall itself and covered by someone else's art. Ah, degradation. Ah, messiness.
Fun story: the first time I passed this place, I was so intrigued by the tunnel door that I wandered in as though pulled by a magnet (this was before I knew French, and the fact that the name means "like boys" or "as boys"). The door itself is cool, pivoting from the center instead of the side. The interior is just as unique... and totally not meant for me. Stacks and stacks of clean, unwrinkled men's shirts and pants and ties and other things not aimed at my demographic.
The door greeters were so nice to me but obviously knew I was lost and probably enjoyed watching me realize where I was. I didn't want to give them the satisfaction so I kept wandering around the store, pretending that I was so glad I'd finally found the perfect dress shirt for my fictional rich boyfriend.
As I kept wandering, I happily found some ladies' RIDICULOUS awesome fashion. I glanced at some price tags and that was when I made my hasty exit past the space-age dressing rooms. I realized that perhaps the door greeters were probably not amused to watch me wander a men's store, but rather to watch my flip-flop-wearing feet traverse a store I will very likely never, ever be able to actually shop in (though I never lose hope that someday I may marry a disposable-pen-and-razor entrepreneur).
Still fun though... still one of my favorite addresses in New York.
love,
*jenna*
Home to Comme Des Garçons, it boasts a glorious tunnel door, surrounded by layers of ads, graffiti on top of ads, and ads on top of graffiti on top of ads.
... and lovely signs new and old...
It feels to me like a nice place to try out your art, to unleash it upon the world tacked to a brick wall.
... as long as you accept that it will soon be consumed by the wall itself and covered by someone else's art. Ah, degradation. Ah, messiness.
Fun story: the first time I passed this place, I was so intrigued by the tunnel door that I wandered in as though pulled by a magnet (this was before I knew French, and the fact that the name means "like boys" or "as boys"). The door itself is cool, pivoting from the center instead of the side. The interior is just as unique... and totally not meant for me. Stacks and stacks of clean, unwrinkled men's shirts and pants and ties and other things not aimed at my demographic.
The door greeters were so nice to me but obviously knew I was lost and probably enjoyed watching me realize where I was. I didn't want to give them the satisfaction so I kept wandering around the store, pretending that I was so glad I'd finally found the perfect dress shirt for my fictional rich boyfriend.
As I kept wandering, I happily found some ladies' RIDICULOUS awesome fashion. I glanced at some price tags and that was when I made my hasty exit past the space-age dressing rooms. I realized that perhaps the door greeters were probably not amused to watch me wander a men's store, but rather to watch my flip-flop-wearing feet traverse a store I will very likely never, ever be able to actually shop in (though I never lose hope that someday I may marry a disposable-pen-and-razor entrepreneur).
Still fun though... still one of my favorite addresses in New York.
love,
*jenna*
posted by jenna at 4:00 PM
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