Exploring Williamsburg, Brooklyn
Four years later and Williamsburg still made me anxious. Part of me wanted to blame the army of hipsters with matching sweatbands for ruining my second visit (and part of me still does). But I know it was the sense of feeling stranded and helpless that overwhelmed me. Staring at the glowing Manhattan skyline at night was like an outer body experience-I was watching life go on without me and I felt disconnected. I could see the Williamsburg Bridge in all its graceless glory, but it was my only consolation for getting out of there (because the L train wasn’t running, of course).
Sooner or later I had to get over my fear of culturally trendy neighborhoods. I had to attack my problem face on-and so I did. I spent a day in Williamsburg, surviving off the advice of others. And while everyone else wanted me to see the “real” Williamsburg, all I wanted was to get through the day without having an anxiety attack (and come back unscathed). For those of you who find little comfort in taking subway rides under the East River, I dedicate my adventures in Williamsburg to you.
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I took the L train from Manhattan and got off at the Bedford Avenue stop. When I emerged, I found myself in a different world. Where people casually stroll from place to place and no one is afraid to sit on the curb. Where cars are a rare find and riding a bike down the middle of the street in hot pants and a bikini top is expected.
Everyone and everything seemed calm, and surprisingly, so was I. At that point I thought to myself. “You know what? It’s really not that bad out here.”
Williamsburg has been known for harboring a constant flow of people, all coming to settle away-but not too far away-from the mayhem of Manhattan. It was an opportunity for immigrants to leave the slums of the Lower East Side. It was cheap housing for the starving artists who couldn’t afford to live in SoHo anymore. It was the Brooklyn neighborhood that had the Brooklyn ability to cater to so many different lifestyles within a limited amount of space.
And it still is that unique Brooklyn neighborhood. But with rising rents and recent rezoning of the waterfront from manufacturing to residential, the charm is quietly fading (because honestly, there’s nothing really bohemian about luxury highrises). I could see Manhattan slowly taking over Williamsburg, and I couldn’t help but feel sorry for it.
So now that I had been guilted into appreciating Williamsburg, I was ready to make a day of discovering it. I had no agenda and no place to be. Come on Williamsburg! Show me whatcha got! And I know you’re vulnerable right now, but so am I-so please be gentle.
A girl I stopped on the street was hyped about sending me to get lunch at a restaurant called SEA (114 N. 6th St.). It was everything you’d expect from a trendy Thai restaurant in New York. There was the exotic food with equally exotic names, the Zen-inspired dÃ?©cor (I was definitely at ease in the cylindrical bamboo bathroom stalls), and, of course, a modest 15-minute wait to be seated. The food had me believing that I was at a five-star restaurant, but paying $10 for a meal (appetizer, main course, tax, and tip included) convinced me otherwise. SEA was the chic Manhattan restaurant without the Manhattan prices.
Down the street from SEA was the Artists ‘n’ Fleas Designer Market (129 N. 6th St.). Considering I have a secret passion for kitschy arts and crafts, I had to go. In a cement lot, local artists and designers congregated to sell their handmade creations. Here I found silkscreen printed blazers and t-shirts, handmade jewelry, used books and records, and even cookies. The Designer Market is always changing its selection of vendors, and it’s only open on Saturdays and Sundays from noon until seven p.m. However, my favorite store, Love Shine, is there every weekend, selling Latin American paraphernalia, like Frida Kahlo wall tapestries and Day of the Dead key chains. (I’m telling you, my love for gaudy trinkets runs deep.)
Two hours in and no panic attack-at least not yet. Williamsburg was treating me well, so far, but I knew there was more to it than Bedford Avenue. I knew I had to go further in.
Looking down the abandoned side streets I could only see disappearing trails of houses-no people, no cars, nothing. Most would intuitively avoid areas like these. And you’d think that I would too, but I began to walk aimlessly down the streets. When did I become so brave? Maybe it was the euphoria from all the eating and shopping. (Or maybe it was my realization that it was only a residential area.)
Half a block in and all I could hear was dead silence. After 10 minutes of meandering and backtracking, I discovered that life did exist beyond Bedford Avenue. Quaint tearooms and homey coffee shops were overflowing with hipsters on Roebling Avenue. Art galleries sprinkled throughout the neighborhood hosted the works of up-and-coming photographers and painters. But go two blocks East and you’ll find yourself walking down empty streets again.
The rest of my afternoon was spent in what I thought was a gallery. Which actually wasn’t so much a gallery as it was a store-with a gallery in it though.
The Future Perfect (115 N. 6th St.) is a collection of the most innovative and outlandish designs by artists from Brooklyn and around the world. And when I say outlandish I mean ceramic antler chandeliers ($1,500 to $1,950), orange rubber band bowls ($50 to $150), and glassware made to look like laboratory equipment ($40 for a glass and $280 for a pitcher). I’m not into expensive functional art, but The Future Perfect does offer some intense artistic eye candy.
My cultural escapade ended up at the highly recommended, and poorly marked, Capone’s (221 N. 9th St.). Hiding amongst graffiti-covered buildings and empty lots, I knew that Capone’s was not a place you go to for the atmosphere, although the disco ball hovering over the worn in bar stools was amusing. It’s a place you go to for the free cheese pizza when you buy a drink after six p.m. Free food with my $4 beer? They sure know how to treat a lady right in Williamsburg. I wanted to leave on a good note, so after finishing off an entire pizza pie, I undid my belt, waddled out of Capone’s and back to Manhattan.
I did it! I saw the “real” Williamsburg and I didn’t have an anxiety attack. The only battle scar I came back with was a bloated stomach. I’m not too sure if I could spend every day in Williamsburg (the separation anxiety from Manhattan might be a little too much for me). But at least my fear of what was on the other side of the river has subsided. Thanks for the hospitality Williamsburg. I really appreciate it.
