There Goes The Neighborhood

This lament is heard in cities worldwide whenever something major changes that the incumbent residents don’t like. It isn’t limited to situations where an area goes downhill because of lower-income housing and the types of residents it’s meant for, either. An old friend who is no longer an urbanite was once married to a man who grew up in a Manhattan area that had become a hellhole of crime by the time they met; $500 per month for the 3-bedroom apartment kept them there until 1996. Was he in denial about the dangers of this area, where cars were being set on fire outside their building and girl gangs would rob women by threatening to harm their children? Or did he stubbornly believe that this neighborhood would turn around? Rumor has it so, with apartments like his former one going for $350K and more listings to come, but this was not happening until ten years after their departure.

The other situation that provokes this comment is the suburbanization of other neighborhoods. Some artist friends of the Urban Anthropologist who live in the East Village are saying this about the new proliferation of baby prams and children on heelies that disturb the quiet, artistic atmosphere that once prevailed there. While there are still plenty of sidewalk cafes and art galleries to be found, the atmosphere around them is often disturbed by shrieks and childish giggling, often unchecked by the parents.

The transformation of such a neighborhood is anathema to a creative soul when the sidewalk cafes are taken over by “I’m my children’s best friend” mothers and their unruly spawn. It is disconcerting to see a favored coffee house disappear in favor of a Gymboree or – Heaven forefend – Chuck E. Cheese. Etiquetteers all over the US are besieged with questions about the invasion of children into venues that used to be taken for granted as Adults Only. Weren’t the suburbs created for that way of life? Are they now too small to contain it?

Artists, musicians, and actors are the cultural lifeblood of Manhattan, but the sad reality is that the neighborhoods that once welcomed them are now priced out of their incomes. The well-heeled invaders with prams, nannies, and selective disciplining of their progeny are sending the artistic and creative people running to Brooklyn and Queens where gentrification is only a few steps behind them.

Astoria, the famous one-time Greek enclave in Queens, is currently experiencing something between gentrification and suburbanization. It is difficult to predict which of these forces will ultimately win out as there are such contradictory signs all over. Chain venues such as Chicago Uno, Panera, Applebees, and – of course – Starbucks – follow other things such as the Regal Multiplex which, as a first-run theatre with stadium seating, has become a destination for movie fans outside the neighborhood. The Museum of the Moving Image sits sedately nearby, showing vintage films to audiences that range from nostalgia buffs to sophisticates. Art house? From time to time the Museum shows latter-day horror and the Regal saves a screen or two for art house films such as Pan’s Labyrinth. The non-urbanite friend has no theatre near her showing Sweeney Todd yet. A performing arts high school is currently under construction, set to open in September of this year.

Sidewalk café culture has always been a staple of Astoria life with at least one every few blocks along Broadway and 30th Avenue. The variety of accents heard in them today is endemic to New York: Greek, Cypriot, Indian, Italian, endlessly stimulating the brain as the various foods stimulate the senses. The irony of all this is that the new Italian restaurant near the Regal, Cinema Paradiso, has followed the path of many a Manhattan eatery of all atmosphere and bland fare. The Fellini posters on the walls and the bottles of Pellegrino promise greater cuisine than is found there; the Urban Anthropologist didn’t see or taste a speck of oregano or basil on the pizza.

In a vain attempt to determine whether Astoria is becoming the new Manhattan, the Urban Anthropologist is more inclined to compare it to Ancient Rome. Locals need to be forgiving for the mixed metaphor, but that city of Caesar, Cicero, and Ovid was the model for the modern metropolitan city in ways the Sybils could never have predicted. It held people, both free and enslaved, from all over the Empire and points beyond. Romans loved their luxuries, their imports, their entertainments, and even their own violence. New York itself is the new Ancient Rome; Caesar himself would feel at home here.

Urban Shopping and Gifting

Pre-Christmas Madness

At Thanksgiving dinner this year the Urban Anthropologist asked the other diners’ opinion of the Early and Earlier Bird sales trends in recent times. One commented that within two years we will be finishing our pumpkin pie and heading for the mall. This was followed by the discovery that this is already happening in Hawaii. Although Thanksgiving is a secular rather than a religious holiday, there seems to be something incredibly sacrilegious about this trend. In a previous essay on Alienation I speculated on whether the technology of connexion isn’t in fact keeping us at an even greater distance from each other. The same could be said for gift-giving because it’s a lot easier to give a gift than to say “I love you.”

Is the opportunity for early shopping making people more thoughtful? Are people giving better gifts than in years past? Considering that the evening news, starting on December 26thm shows long lines of people at return counters, it would appear to have had no such effect. Technology allows us to build wish lists in many places, shop online while listening to client conference calls or at 2AM in our PJs, but are we better shoppers for it? Is the modern urbanite gaining or losing in the shopzilla game?

How well do we know the people in our lives? The people whose names are on the list we’re checking twice are relatives, friends, and colleagues so, presumably, we have some ideas about what they would like. Yet gift cards are still a popular item despite the etiquetteers who call it the ultimate in lazy gifting.

We multitask to an alarming degree, talking, texting, IMing, e-mailing, that we don’t even remember our friends’ telephone numbers; we enter them into the memories of our phones, hit one or two keys and we’re connected. Along with those phone numbers we no longer remember, do we remember whether to buy Armani or Calvin Klein? Casswell-Massey or George F. Trumper? Milles Bournes or Monopoly? Most New Yorkers, regardless of financial status, have at least a half dozen people to shop for and there are at least a half dozen attitudes about it. Those who still shop in brick and mortars are classified into the following species:

The Shopzilla

This breed turns shopping into an Olympic sport. Armed with an objective, the hunter ventures far and wide, from expensive department store to church basement bazaars, rarely striking out. About 75% of these are female. She rarely discloses the source of an item and will share the price only with another Shopzilla. The Odd Lot and Odd Job stores of old were havens to this type, who tends to shop alone about 90% of the time. She collects coupons and e-mail from favored stores, often in sufficient numbers to require a filing system. She might even start on December 26th of the previous year and simply purchase opportunistically. She only gets it wrong about 2% of the time and that might be on size.

A legendary tale of years past told by a female acquaintance provides the ultimate success story. She was invited to the bridal shower of her cheapskate ex’s fiancée, but had to decline due to vacation plans. However she promised to visit them upon her return. On the payday immediately following her return to the office she had the gut feeling she needed to go into Odd Job on West 48th Street where she found a set of cups and saucers made of amber glass. Price: $2.49.

Yes, you read that correctly. The angel and devil from National Lampoon’s Animal House appeared to debate the ethics of this purchase; the devil won. The wrapping paper cost more than that at purchase 6 months earlier. The recipient placed the set immediately into the antique breakfront given by his mother. To this day he still does not know that his wedding gift had cost less than a pack of cigarettes.


The Fashionista

Everyone knows at least two or three of these. Their insecurity is such that nothing short of Manolo Blahnick and the shopping bag with his name on it will do. Their scent-hunting leads them to sample sales in the garment district. The ones who are under size 4 are often employed in some sector of the fashion industry where access to the source is the raison d’être. Their custom is to travel in packs, the better to get egged on by the others.

They are notorious for irritating their friends with either or both of the following boasts:

“I just paid $1500 for my new Kate Spade purse.” Or…
“This was the gift at the presentation of the Armani collection.”

The worst of them are often the very retail employees who snub those who can afford to pay, just because they might be a size 8 or more.



The Bottom Feeder

This cousin of the Shopzilla can be found at bargain chains, flea markets, and thrift shops because she’s on a tight budget. Many enjoy making it a game of it all. The smart ones shop for children’s items this way; the Laura Ashley nightgown was outgrown by its original owner in about a month and a half; one hand wash and two sheets of tissue paper later you have a nice gift for your infant niece.

Just hope that one’s sister-in-law isn’t a Fashionista who can spot that this nightgown is last season’s.



The Bohemian

Like her cousin Shopzilla she delights in finding the Perfect Thing.. Her venues tend to be the artsy-crafty market in areas like Union Square, whose vendors have unique items that other people need to purchase from websites. She needs to see and touch them first. Often she is an artist herself, so she is inclined toward things that are unique and unusual. The habit is usually to inspect the merchandise on Tuesday and return on Wednesday to do the actual purchase. Unlike the others, she is likely to wrap in plain paper that she decorates herself.


The Adrenalin Junkie

There are two distinct subgroups to this breed: Early Birds who storm the stores at pre-dawn sales immediately after the turkey is carved for sandwiches and the Late Birds who head to the mall in a panic on December 24th. At least 75% of the latter are male.

The sad thing about them is that they often haven’t a clue what to buy and there often are limited choices by the time they get to the store. The women in their lives forgive them if they remember and buy their favorite fragrances or cut of diamond, but the Urban Anthropologist has yet to meet even the most accurately identified metrosexual who knows his lady’s sizes.

Gift Cards

While there are a plethora of gift card purchases by men it would be interesting to know what percentage of them occur during the final shopping week.

As a recent article on MSN.com said, a gift card merely allows the giver to make a checkmark on his list. It requires no thought or effort; the store even supplies a holiday-themed gift card and envelope. Many recipients will regard the giver as a good-natured shopping clod but perhaps the worst downside is that a year from now, the recipient is unlikely to remember what s/he bought with it. Contrast that with something overheard at a wedding last summer: The 25-year-old bride remembered that an old friend of her mother’s gave her her first camera for Hannukkah when she was nine and her first cubic zirconias on her birthday the following year. Even the most sophisticated urbanite enjoys hearing this. Of course, the lady in question was a Royal Shopzilla.