Eclectic/Encore Props

We recently took a tour of Eclectic/Encore Props, one of the largest prop rental companies on the East Coast. Located in a 95,000 sq ft former Pepsi factory in Long Island City, Queens, Eclectic/Encore Props rents its nearly two million props to movies, television shows and Broadway productions all over the country. 

Suri Bieler, a veteran stage designer, started Eclectic Props 40 years ago, supplying furnishings for Broadway shows. In 1989, she acquired Encore Studios and added movies and television shows to the operation. As the collection has grown, she has needed to find larger spaces to house everything, and I was constantly overwhelmed by just how much stuff is housed in this unassuming warehouse. 

When we arrived for the tour, we received a map of the warehouse, which is impressively organized by theme. Every single object is barcoded and cataloged, which makes locating and returning specific pieces easy. There is a shipping department on the ground floor, where props are carefully wrapped and sent to their temporary homes. 

Within the collection is every theme imaginable—Egyptian, holidays, religious, medieval, rugs, Victorian, Mid-Century, diner, rustic, sports and weapons, toys, school, garden, music and medical, etc. Bieler chooses new pieces from closing Broadway shows, private collections and estate sales. When asked if she ever sells pieces from the collection—a question she says she gets all the time—she replied with an emphatic "no." 

My only complaint about our tour was that it was woefully short. I could've spent days inside of the warehouse marveling at each piece in the collection, and every room we encountered was better than the last. I practically had to be dragged kicking and screaming from the medical room and it took all of my willpower not to swipe something from the mannequin head shelf or the diner room. I've always been interested in production design for shows but now I think that Bieler might actually have my dream job—she found a way to turn hoarding and thrift store shopping into an organized and lucrative profession and I'm mostly jealous that I didn't think of it first. 

---

Eclectic/Encore Props
47-51 33rd Street
Long Island City, New York 11101

We took our tour via the New York Adventure Club

The Pines

If you're interested in abandoned places, chances are you've seen photos of the abandoned Borscht Belt resorts in the Poconos and the Catskills. David and I had the use of a car recently (not a Zipcar, which has mileage restrictions) and his first suggestion was that we go explore some of the abandoned resorts that I hadn't been able to stop thinking about since I first saw photos of them years ago.

Our first stop was the Summit Resort in the Poconos, but the area was very crowded and appears to be slated for redevelopment. I didn't feel comfortable creeping on a place where people had been known to get arrested, so we moved onto my backup plan, The Buck Hill Inn ... only to find that it has been completely demolished. It was getting late but I still had hopes that we could salvage our day by visiting my third choice, The Pines Resort.

The Pines Resort, located in South Fallsburg, NY, opened in 1933. It's about an hour and a half drive from New York City, in the Catskills region of Upstate New York. The once-popular resort had indoor and outdoor swimming pools, a golf course, ski slopes, an ice skating rink, a theater, a 400-room hotel, tennis courts and card rooms.

Due in part to changing tastes and access to cheaper airfares, the resort business suffered and The Pines closed in 1998. The current owner, The Fallsburg Estates LLC filed for bankruptcy in 2002 and has done little to maintain the property. A lot of the buildings have collapsed roofs or have been reduced to piles of debris. The indoor pool is now an outdoor pool, the staff building burned in 2003 and the day care and staff quarters suffered a similar fate in 2007. 

The most distinctive attraction at The Pines (today, as well as in its heyday) is its kidney-shaped pool. It has a futuristic, swooping cement walkway over the middle and was filled with snow, ice and cattails when we visited. If you love before/afters, Pablo Maurer did a fantastic study of these abandoned resorts with side-by-side comparisons of postcards, matchbooks and archival photos.

Because The Pines is so easily accessible, there isn't much stuff left inside of the buildings to hint at its former glory days. But the one thing The Pines has in spades is chairs. Of course, #theresalwaysachair, but the former dining hall is still filled with tables and piles and piles of chairs—so many that people have turned them into a de facto art installation by poking them into the walls and ceilings. 

The days of exploring these abandoned resorts seem to be coming to an end. Most of them are being actively redeveloped, and I would imagine that The Pines will one day crumble completely. I was surprised to discover that it had been built in the '30s—most of the buildings that we explored seemed stuck in the '70s. I have seen much older buildings in much better condition than the soggy, moldy piles that we found at The Pines, but if you look hard enough you can almost imagine a time when this was the place to be.

Chinese Lunar New Year Parade 2018

Maybe because I post about a majority of the things that I do, but I often get asked, "how do you do so much?" I'm generally at a loss on how to answer this because I don't have any secrets besides doing what I like and often doing those things alone—but here's a fact that might not be too evident if you only know me through this blog or Instagram: sometimes I just don't want to do anything at all.

The most recent example of hermit mood came on Sunday, when I had planned to go to the Chinese Lunar New Year Parade. I had been hyped about this parade for literally years—the last time we went was in 2014, and every year since I've wanted to go but never made it for reasons I've since forgotten.

This year I was determined to go and put it on my calendar months in advance. I was closely monitoring the weather and knew Sunday looked rainy, but I hoped it would clear in time for the parade. After obsessively checking the radar every few minutes on Sunday morning, I texted my mom "it looks crappy out, we probably shouldn't go," but she didn't get my text and showed up at my door anyway (not a big deal, she lives upstairs). After a few more minutes of me listing reasons why we shouldn't go, I finally rallied and decided to put on my waterproof hiking shoes and hope for the best.

We missed the beginning of the parade, but we were able to catch most of it and the rain mostly held off. After the parade, we had soup dumplings at Joe's Shanghai, almond cookie ice cream at the Chinatown Ice Cream Factory and walked around Chinatown marveling at the parade aftermath, having mini-heart attacks every time someone pulled a party popper.

The Chinese Lunar New Year parade is such a joyful event, with tons of confetti, lion, fan and umbrella dances, music and colorful costumes. It's more chill than the Thanksgiving Day Parade, less corporate than the Pride Parade and just as joyous as the Mermaid Parade. My only complaint is that I didn't see nearly as many dogs as I would've thought appropriate to welcome the Year of the Dog.

"Don't tell me not to live
Just sit and putter
Life's candy and the sun's
A ball of butter
Don't bring around a cloud
To rain on my parade
Don't tell me not to fly
I've simply got to..."

NYC Ballet Art Series

It's nearly impossible to browse Instagram and not be aware of Jihan Zencirli, a Turkish-American artist who creates incredible, large-scale art installations under the name Geronimo. Her installations are made entirely of balloons—which are definitely having a moment, probably due at least in part to Zencirli. Starting in January, Zencirli installed thousands of compostable, biodegradable balloons inside of the New York City Ballet as part of their ongoing NYCB Art Series. 

The exhibition opened in January, but the first free public viewing hours were on Saturday. I went to Lincoln Center right at 10am, hoping to view the installation with as few other people as possible (always my goal). Luckily, there weren't too many people, but I do wish there had been fewer toddlers running through the installations, smacking balloons to the ground without any guidance from their parents (PSA: please, don't be these parents).

Zencirli's signature style is loads of colorful, round balloons in varying sizes, undulating and cascading over various buildings and objects. But instead of the rainbow installation that I had seen all over Instagram, I was surprised to find an entirely new, silvery set of mylar balloons. When I asked a volunteer, "where are the other ones—the rainbow balloons?" she told me that they had deflated and Zencirli had decided to change up the exhibition entirely. While I was initially disappointed that I had missed out on seeing the first iteration, it was hard not to be dazzled by the new set.

In fact, the ephemeral nature of balloons is what Zencirli's work is all about—she explains, "Balloons are only for a moment. They disappear and vanish. So rooted in my work is this reminder that you will only have this experience at this particular time. You’re here, you’re seeing it, you’re alive."

---

New York City Ballet
Free public viewing hours now thru February 25th
Mon-Fri 10 AM – 6 PM
Sat-Sun 10 AM – 12 PM

Westminster Dog Show 2018

Growing up, Best in Show was one of the movies I watched most with my parents. As a result, I've always wanted to see a dog show in person, and this year my mom and I finally made it to the Westminster Dog Show at Madison Square Garden. The dog show spans two nights, and we got tickets to the first night which included judging of the Hound, Toy, Non-Sporting and Herding groups. The second night is where they crown Best-in-Show, after judging the Sporting, Working and Terrier groups.

Tickets were easier to come by for the first night, but it also included all of our favorite breeds so we weren't too bummed about missing Best-in-Show. We both have low-maintenance cats, but dream of the day when we can own dachshunds (although my mom will probably get there before me). Luckily for us, up first was the hound group, my favorites of which included: the shimmery Afghan hound, the flappy Basset Hound, Bluetick Coonhound (my dad has one!), Dachshunds (of course), Greyhound, the Ancient Egyptian Pharaoh Hound, and Whippet.

In conjunction with the Westminster Kennel Club, the First Annual New York Bench Show of Dogs was staged in 1877 at Gilmore’s Garden (a forerunner of Madison Square Garden), with 1,201 dogs. The show—2018 was the 142nd one—is one of only four events to be held in all four iterations of Madison Square Garden through the years. J.P. Morgan showed his collies, Nellie Bly entered a Maltese, The Queen of England and a Czar of Russia bred show dogs and of course, Martha Stewart has entered several Chow Chows in the show and in 2012 Ghenghis Khan won Best of Breed.

The second group was Toy, which includes a lot of my tiny favorites such as Pug, Chihuahuas, Chinese Crested, a shaky Italian Greyhound, the impossibly small Toy Poodle and Fox Terrier. The third group was Non-Sporting, which included Bulldog, Boston Terrier, French Bulldog, Chow Chow, Shar-pei (brought back from the brink of extinction in the 1960s), Dalmatian and all-black Miniature and Standard Poodles.

Our seats were better than I anticipated—19 rows behind the judges on an aisle—but I knew we wouldn't be super close (and dogs are tiny!) so I rented this huge zoom lens for the day just for fun. My photos aren't the best and we did find ourselves watching the Jumbotron frequently for close-ups, but I'm really glad we finally saw a dog show in person.

It was super exciting for the first two groups, less so by the third and we ended up leaving halfway through the judging of the Herding group because we were tired and only recognized about half of the breeds. But we did stick around just long enough to see the Puli and the Bergamasco Sheepdog, dogs so strange-looking that they need to be seen in person just to be believed.

---

BEST OF BREED 🏅
Hound: Borzoi
Toy: Pug
Non-Sporting: Bichon Frise
Herding: Border Collie
Sporting: Sussex Spaniel
Working: Giant Schnauzer
Terrier: Norfolk Terrier

BEST IN SHOW 🏆
Bichon Frise

Letchworth Village 2018

I've been itching for an "adventure" day lately, so last week, despite the cold, we bundled up and headed upstate. We had initially planned on exploring remnants of the Borscht Belt resorts, but realized that the trip would put us over our ZipCar mile limit (ugh) so we decided to check out the abandoned parts of Rockland County Psychiatric. I'd been dreaming about exploring RCP for years, ever since I learned that it had a bowling alley, but unfortunately (for us, at least) the buildings look as if they're in the process of being demolished. They were all circled by construction fences and workers were milling about, proving that when you're dealing with abandoned places, you can never be sure of what you're going to find (or not find).

After it became clear that Rockland County Psych was a bust, we implemented the back-up plan to the back-up plan: Letchworth Village. We'd partially explored Letchworth in July, but there was still so much left to explore. Letchworth's campus once consisted of more than 130 buildings, and although there aren't that many left, it's still full of fascinating, slowly crumbling structures.

Letchworth Village was built as a home for the mentally and physically disabled—you can read more about its sordid history in my first post—and it's been abandoned since 1996. The buildings are covered in graffiti but there is still a surprising amount of stuff left inside—hospital beds, tubs, dental equipment, papers, dishes, cups and chairs (so many chairs!).

This time we explored mostly dormitories—all of which had the same general layout and began to blend together after a while—but my main goal for the day was to find the "morgue." I'd seen photos of it and was upset that we had missed it on our first visit. I didn't have much information on where to find it, but I had read that the hospital building was located north of the boys' dormitories, so I knew we were in the right general vicinity.

We knew we were close when we entered a large building and saw what appeared to be dental equipment, and soon enough David rounded the corner and said "here's something." I think calling it a morgue may be inaccurate, but these four cold storage slots were obviously for storing bodies. Medical testing took place at Letchworth—willingly or not—and in 1950, the first trial case of the polio vaccine was administered to an 8-year-old patient. Luckily, the patient suffered no side effects and the vaccine was administered to 19 more children, none of which developed complications.

When I got home, I looked up Geraldo's award-winning 1972 documentary, Willowbrook: The Last Great Disgrace, in which Geraldo likens the conditions at Letchworth to the abuse and neglect that he found at the Willowbrook State School in Staten Island. The documentary even includes brief footage of the squalid conditions that he and his camera crew discovered during a surprise visit to Letchworth. It was incredibly sad to watch, and it exacerbated my already complicated feelings about exploring places like this. I find the decay process of buildings to be fascinating and I'm interested in the history and lives contained within the leftovers—but knowing about the horrors that occurred here doesn't make me sad that nature is slowly reclaiming these buildings.

Women's March 2018

In some ways I can't believe it's been an entire year since the Women's March in Washington, and in some ways it feels as if that was ages ago. The pussy hats were back and a lot of the sentiments were the same this year, but the mood of this year's women's march in New York felt notably different.

People are still hopeful, but we're tired. We've survived a year that felt like several, during which time sometimes seemed to run backwards at an alarming rate. But at the same time we've also kept moving forward, and every day since has felt like an extension of the Women's March.

Every woman that has spoken up and been brave enough to say #metoo is marching this country forward. Every man that has believed those women enough to look inward and examine how he treats others is marching forward. Every little girl who grows up believing that she can do great things not in spite of her sex, but because of it is marching us all forward.

I think you can draw a direct line from the Trump administration to the #metoo movement, and I think you can track marked progress from the last Women's March. Things are far from perfect, obviously, but I think it's wise to acknowledge that progress occurs in both leaps and baby steps, both of which are essential to affecting lasting change. 

Sure, New York can feel like a bubble but I resist that characterization because I think it too easily dismisses what New York does so very right. Every single day that I've lived here, I've come in contact with people who don't look like me, speak like me, or live like me. And every single day I realize more and more that we're all just people—annoying, busy, lazy, energetic, loving, flawed, exceptional, average, beautiful, strange, boring people. 

The Women's March is not the answer to all of our problems, but it's nice to feel hopeful for a few hours and to be surrounded by so many strong, passionate and compassionate humans. It's refreshing to be part of a movement where women are not only speaking up for themselves, but maybe, just maybe, people are actually starting to listen.

Hudson River Ice

This winter started off with a shock of unseasonably cold weather for which I was most definitely not prepared. I finally reconciled with the arctic temps just in time for it to warm up (and then get cold again—it's hard to keep up) and I'm glad that winter and I are back on good terms because I have a special kind of love for winter in New York.

Five years ago (!) on January 11th, 2013, I very quickly uprooted my life in Ohio and moved to New York for what I started calling a "trial period" of two months. I had wanted to live in New York for most of my life, but I still was wary of making the commitment. A (somewhat surprise) break-up triggered the quick getaway and I had a job that allowed me to work remotely, easing the transition. Even though I was pretty sure about the outcome, I wanted my move to New York to be backed up by evidence and not just romance.

I spent those two months exploring the city—on my lunch break, after work and on the weekends—and although I had been here many times before, I discovered that living in New York 24/7 was infinitely different than being here on vacation. I had friends here, but I was alone more often than not, and I learned more about myself in those two months than I had in the several years prior.

I had initially thought that the winter was the worst possible time for my trial run, thinking that the city would be miserably cold and bleak. Ohio winters are no joke, but after a life of heated seats and limited time spent outside, I dreaded having to walk outdoors so much in the winter. I quickly realized, however, that the right clothes and shoes can make all of the difference, and I came to cherish the way the city empties out after the holidays, the way the bare trees expose previously obscured views and of course, the magical way everything looks coated in a fresh layer of snow (fresh being the operative word).

I was worried at the beginning of this season that I had finally lived in New York long enough to become immune to its charms. But then I layered up and took a walk along the icy Hudson—mesmerized by the bobbing ice floes—and remembered why I fell in love with this city in the first place.

In 1780, during the American Revolution, the New York harbor completely froze over, and in the 1800s, the East River froze over several times—solid enough that it was possible to walk from Manhattan to Brooklyn. A combination of high salinity levels and frequent boat traffic usually keeps the Hudson from freezing over completely, although it's technically still possible.

When the two months were up and I went back to Ohio, I knew it wouldn't be long until I returned to New York again for good, and five months later I moved for real. It was unbearably hot in those first weeks, and the winters here can feel relentlessly grey and cold, a season of death and deep freeze. But after several years spent feeling as if I was merely existing in a self-imposed dormancy, it was in the dead of winter that I truly started to come alive again.

First Calvary Cemetery

I've mentioned that I've been going a little stir crazy already this winter, and even after walking to work on Friday, I wasn't ready to say goodbye to all of our "bomb cyclone" snow just yet. On Sunday I bundled up (it was a four shirts, three pairs of socks and two pairs of pants kind of day) and headed to Queens. Our regular UWS diner is still closed (hopefully only temporarily) after a fire, so my mom and I had lunch at the Court Square Diner in Long Island City. After lunch, we parted ways and I headed further into Queens to the First Calvary Cemetery.

Calvary, a Roman Catholic cemetery, is one of the oldest cemeteries in the United States. It's divided into four sections and the oldest section, First Calvary, is bordered by the Long Island Expressway and the BQE. The first burial occurred on July 31, 1848—Esther Ennis, reportedly dead of a broken heart—and First Calvary was full by 1867.

I had been to First Calvary once before, back in 2014 when I first got my camera. I always had it on my mental list of places to revisit, but we watched The Godfather on Saturday—Vito Corleone is "buried" in Calvary—and whenever it snows my first instinct is to head to a cemetery. Google lists the cemetery as closed on Sundays and I've had unfortunate luck getting into snowy cemeteries before, but luckily the gates were open.

Calvary was the first major cemetery to be established in an outer borough by the Trustees of St. Patrick's Cathedral, after a cholera epidemic created a burial shortage in Manhattan. Today, more than three million people are buried in Calvary cemetery—the largest number of interments of any cemetery in the US—and the first thing you notice upon entering is just how full it seems. In many ways, the cemetery resembles a small city of its own, with row after row of tall headstones tightly packed together, a mirror image of the Manhattan skyline in the distance.

---

First Calvary Cemetery
34-02 Greenpoint Avenue,
Maspeth (Queens), NY 11378
Office Hours (note that the office is closed on Sunday, but the cemetery gates were open):
Monday-Friday: 9:00 a.m. until 4:30 p.m.
Saturday: 9:00 a.m. until 1:00 p.m.

Bomb Cyclone

I didn't leave my apartment at all on Thursday during Winter Storm Grayson, aka the "bomb cyclone," a massive winter storm that hit nearly the entire east coast. Central Park reported 9.8 inches of snow, and as much as I love to frolic in the city during snowstorms, this one was accompanied by gale-force winds and negative temperatures.

Of course I enjoy snow days and time off work, but I've been staying inside so much over the past few weeks that I began to go a little stir crazy. Despite the frigid temps, I decided to walk to work on Friday morning through Central Park, hoping to counteract my winter blues with sunshine and beautiful, snowy views.

It's been a while since I walked to/from work since it's been cold and getting dark so early, but it's really something I should do more often. It takes me about 45 minutes (longer if I'm wandering) to walk 2.2 miles door to door, which is also just about how long it takes if I ride the bus. My favorite route is through the North Woods, which isn't the most direct but it is the most scenic. 

The North Woods is one of my favorite areas of Central Park. It's heavily wooded, as the name implies, and it almost feels like a well-kept secret. It has all the features I love in other parts of the park—stone arches, tiny waterfalls, rustic bridges—and none of the crowds that can ruin an otherwise peaceful park walk. It's one of my favorite places to visit after a snowfall and this walk was exactly what I needed to make peace with this winter.

Holiday Windows 2017: Bergdorf Goodman

It's should surprise no one that my favorite holiday windows this year were—for the fifth year in a row—Bergdorf Goodman's. The Bergdorf windows are always so stunning that I can't imagine another store besting them—they're essentially just in competition with their own past window designs at this point. I wouldn't declare this year's the best ones I've ever seen (I still give that honor to my very first Bergdorf windows, although you never forget your first), but they're an improvement on last year's and at least as good as 2014's and 2015's.

This year's theme is "To New York with Love" and each window features a different beloved New York City cultural institution: The American Museum of Natural History, the Museum of the Moving Image, the New York Botanical Garden, the New York Philharmonic and the New York Historical Society. The windows take all year to create, and are constructed with a wide range of materials including papier-mâché, neon, video, resin casting, fiber arts, digital displays and rhinestones.

Each window was designed in a different style to reflect the architecture and mission of its respective institution. They're all wonderful, but the one that really wowed me was the American Museum of Natural History window and its bedazzled dinosaur skeletons. Of course I'd pick the one filled with (fake) bones, but if you covered anything in that many rhinestones it would be hard not to take notice.

It's not difficult to be charmed by such an expensive, flashy love letter to some of my favorite places in my favorite city, but I doubt there is another store that could ever match the Bergdorf window displays in scope, vision or execution. I actually went into Bergdorfs for the first time last week—their bathroom is very clean!—and although I quickly discovered that I can't afford anything, it's nice that anyone walking by can enjoy the quality and glamour of Bergdorfs for at least a few weeks every year.

✨ Wishing everyone a very Merry Christmas! ✨

Holiday Windows 2017: Tiffany // Bloomingdale's // Saks

Dyker Heights Lights 2017

This was my fifth year in a row seeing the over-the-top Christmas lights displays in the Dyker Heights neighborhood of Brooklyn. When I was new to the city, my first boss suggested that I go see the lights, and also recommended that we eat at the classic '60s-era Italian restaurant, Tommaso. A group of friends and I did both, and I loved it so much it became an annual tradition (some years with pizza slices and cannoli when we had less time).

This year was a little bittersweet since my friend Jim moved away, but I was honored to serve as a seasoned guide for three of my friends who had never seen the lights, or this specific part of Brooklyn before. We met on a Saturday so we had time for a leisurely dinner at Tommaso (seriously, our dinner lasted nearly three hours), where the food is delicious and affordable, and they serenade you with opera and Christmas carols while you eat.

The neighborhood first became famous for its elaborate Christmas lights displays about 30 years ago and has only grown since then—the displays now attract 100,000 people a year. If you go on a weekend night close to Christmas, it can feel like all 100,000 people are there in one night, but some of the streets are closed to car traffic, which helps a little with the crowding.

A lot of the houses are actually decorated by companies, and they display signs out front advertising their services. I haven't noticed much change in the displays from year to year, but there's something comforting in seeking out my favorite houses and finding them unchanged. Speaking of the houses, even without the help of decorations it's worth the long subway ride just to marvel at the bizarre, grandiose architecture. Each house is more elaborate and ostentatious than the next, with grand entrances, water features and menageries of stone animals. 

I have very specific ideas when it comes to how Christmas decorations should look, and even if nearly all of the Dyker Heights houses break my arbitrary rules, I still love and appreciate the spectacle and joy of it all. If I had my way I'd have a yard full of vintage, weathered, illuminated blow molds, but luckily there are still plenty of those on display each year for me to envy.

Not all of the houses participate—one of my favorites was a ramshackle, completely dark house that just had a few faded and weathered red bows scattered haphazardly around—but the main displays fall between 11th and 13th Avenues from 83rd to 86th streets. Trash cans overflow with coffee and hot chocolate cups, a Mister Softee truck is there no matter how low the temperature drops and if you don't end the night full of Christmas spirit, you weren't in the right place.

Holiday Windows 2017: Tiffany

Next up on the 2017 Holiday Window Tour is my second favorite of the four I visited, Tiffany & Co. Usually the Tiffany windows don't really register with me—they're smaller and usually less elaborate than Bergdorfs, Bloomingdale's or Saks—but this year I loved them so much I went back for a repeat viewing. 

This year's theme for the Tiffany windows is "A Tiffany New York Christmas" which doesn't really tell you much, but the displays are intricate, whimsical and very shiny. They feature silver articulated artist mannequins—making jewelry, carrying stacks of the iconic blue Tiffany boxes and fishing for engagement rings.

Jewelry must be a hard thing to exhibit in a window display—it's small by nature, and would be dwarfed by full-sized mannequins. As a result, everything in the Tiffany windows is created in miniature and it's a nice contrast to the life-sized spectacle of its neighbor across the street, Bergdorfs.

I've always been fascinated with miniatures—as a kid I made a bunch of miniature furniture and props for a dollhouse I never had—and I love all of the tiny tools, hats, scarves and other accessories presumably made exclusively for these windows. My favorite, however, was the miniature color wheel (it actually turns!) and hopefully one day I'll have a full-sized one to go with the aluminum tree I also desperately need. 

This year, Tiffany introduced a groan-inducing line of "Everyday Objects" including this very unreasonably-priced $1,000 "tin" can. According to the listing, "Tiffany artisans transform utilitarian items into handcrafted works of art. Sterling silver and shining vermeil upgrade this classic tin can." Despite my lack of interest in jewelry and inability to afford anything inside of Tiffany, I do appreciate the way they incorporated their jewelry into sparkly, silver-plated, magical little worlds that I can enjoy for free.

Home Alone 2: Lost in New York

**I originally published this post in 2014, but I've updated some of the information since**

I refuse to make a Sophie's Choice and choose which of the Home Alone movies I like more (I only acknowledge the existence of the first two), but as far as sequels go, Home Alone 2: Lost in New York, is pretty much perfect.

A few of the scenes were filmed in Chicago—the McCallister house, obviously, plus the interiors of the Plaza as well as the exteriors of Duncan's Toy Chest—and Rob McCallister's Upper West Side brownstone was actually a Hollywood set. But a majority of the movie was filmed on location in New York and a surprising amount of locations are still nearly the same today as they were 25 years ago—if you're willing to forgive the movie a bit on its geographical leaps, you too can spend a day Lost in New York.

LaGuardia Airport / Queens:

Kevin arrives in New York via LaGuardia, which is technically in Queens, so the view looking west toward Manhattan sort of makes sense, until you realize that it's actually the view from Long Island City. I wish the real view from LaGuardia was even half this nice.

Queensboro Bridge / Spans the East River btwn Queens and Manhattan at E 59th Street:

Kevin takes a taxi across the Queensboro Bridge, which again isn't terribly accurate. All of the cabs I've ever taken from LaGuardia take the Triborough Bridge, but the Queensboro is much more photogenic. I walked over it once, but I wish I could still ride over it hanging out of the window of an iconic Checkered Cab.

Radio City Music Hall / 6th Avenue btwn W 51st and 50th Streets:

Thankfully the classic Radio City neon signs haven't changed in the 22 years since Home Alone 2 was filmed. The huge Christmas tree is a nice addition, and it's the home of the Rockettes Christmas Spectacular. Have you ever wondered what Kevin takes a photo of across from Radio City? I wonder what happened to the rest of the Polaroids he takes during the course of the movie?

Empire Diner / 10th Avenue btwn W 23rd and 22nd Streets:

The Empire Diner has closed and reopened several times since 1992, but thankfully it is open today. Unfortunately the large Empire State Building replica is no longer on top of the diner, and I've never seen a Santa walk by on stilts, but they do make a delicious french onion soup.

Battery Park / Southern tip of Manhattan:

I went all the way down to Battery Park, only to discover that they no longer have the viewers (binoculars? what are these thing called?) that Kevin looks through to see the Statue of Liberty. Of course you can still see the famous Lady, you just have to bring your own binoculars (or ride the Staten Island Ferry, or go to Liberty Island) to get a closer look.

World Trade Center / West Street btwn Vesey and Fulton Streets:

I couldn't visit the Twin Towers for obvious reasons, and every time I watch Kevin on the observation deck (eerily alone) it makes me sad and a little uncomfortable. The observation deck of 1WTC is open now, but it's pricey so I still haven't been. You can, however, still see the sculpture that once sat outside of the Twin Towers—it survived the collapse, but is quite damaged. The unrestored sculpture had a temporary home in Battery Park, but it was re-dedicated in August of 2017 and now sits at a permanent location in Liberty Park, near the 9/11 memorial.

West 57th Street and 6th Ave:

The Sticky Bandits exit the subway at W. 57th Street, which apparently served the B and Q lines back in '92, but is now only for the F. I don't know if this was changed for the movie, since the Q is a yellow line (not orange), but it's interesting to note that the sides of the station have since been painted green, while the handrails are no longer painted at all.

Gapstow Bridge / Southeast Central Park, at the Pond near E 62nd Street:

When Kevin first meets the Pigeon Lady, aka the most terrifying of all New York personalities, he very correctly exclaims "SICK!" He spots her near one of my favorite parts in the park, the Gapstow Bridge, which is also the spot that always makes me think of Holden Caulfield asking "where do the ducks go in the winter?" (answer: they stay right here).

The Plaza Hotel / 5th Avenue btwn W 59th and 58th Streets:

Although it is no longer just a hotel, the Plaza still might be "New York's most exciting hotel experience." I am dying to stay there, but until I happen upon a pile of money (or become a guest of the New Celebrity Ding-Dang-Dong), I'll have to settle for ogling its beautiful exterior, which recently underwent a restoration and is as gorgeous as ever.

Wollman Rink / Southeast Central Park, near the Pond:

I refuse to acknowledge that the worst President in history (who actually has a tiny cameo in the movie—an excellent time for a short bathroom/snack break) renamed the Wollman Rink in Central Park after himself, or that he slapped that name on everything from the edges of the rink to the Zamboni machines, but if you go today, that's what you'll get. This is where Marv and Harry hatch their plan to rob Duncan's, and where Marv inexplicably steals gloves, hats and mittens from multiple skaters without anyone noticing.

Bethesda Terrace + Fountain / Central Central Park near 72nd Street and Terrace Drive:

Bethesda Fountain is my favorite fountain in the entire city, especially in the snow. While it's not very plausible that Kevin was chased all the way here from the Plaza, it's a beautiful filming location. I also think it's odd that there are horse carriages on the terrace—I don't think this was ever allowed, but I'd take horses over hordes of clueless tourists any day. Speaking of horses, there was some talk of them being banned, but as of now you can still catch one on Central Park South.

51 West 95th Street / Btwn Central Park West and Columbus Avenue:

Although I knew that Rob McCallister's under-construction brownstone was actually a set, I still wanted to see what was at that address. To my delight, I found a real brownstone, albeit one that doesn't look anything like the one in the movie. How fun would it be to have that as your real address?

West 96th Street and Central Park West:

When Kevin runs into the park and catches the scariest cab ever, he does so at 96th Street. One of the most interesting things about watching Home Alone 2 now, is that you almost forget that New York was a completely different place 25 years ago. I've frequented this part of the park and it's nowhere near as terrifying today (at least during the day).

Carnegie Hall / 7th Avenue at W 57th Street:

I've been inside of Carnegie Hall once, but I'll always wish that I could listen to a concert like Kevin and the Pigeon Lady, from high up in the attic. Some people write that the P.L. actually lives at Carnegie Hall, but I just got the impression that she breaks in from time to time to listen to some of the greatest music in the world, because why not?

St. Anne's Hospital for Children / Broadway at W 120th Street:

Columbia University's Teacher's College (at Broadway and West 120th Street) stands in for St. Anne's, and is an incredibly beautiful building. I got there after the sun had already gone down, but so did Kevin so I guess I timed my tour perfectly (I could have used some of that nice movie lighting though). Even though I know it's not really a children's hospital, I do wish they still put a star at the top of the massive entrance, or at least had trees flanking the doorway.

Inscope Arch / Southeast Central Park near E 62nd Street:

The second time Kevin sees the Pigeon Lady, she is by another Central Park arch, which in reality is right next to the Gapstow Bridge. It's unlikely that he would have ran all the way here after fleeing the cab on 96th street or that he would have led Harry and Marv here in the end, but it is a lovely spot—in the daylight at least. The city may have become a lot safer in recent years, but when Marv says "kids are a-scared of the dark," and "kids are a-scared of the park," I can't help but thinking that maybe so am I.

Rockefeller Center / Btwn 5th and 6th Avenues and W 51st and 49th Streets:

No Christmas movie set in New York would be complete without a trip to see the Rockefeller Center Christmas tree. Of course the first thing I always notice about this scene is that Kevin and his mom are completely alone. Yes, I'm sure the city was slightly less crowded back then, but I still find this hard to believe (and I'm totally envious). I do appreciate that the trumpeting angels do not appear to have changed at all, although I do like the lighting of the tree better in the movie than what it is today. I definitely understand Kevin's affinity for Christmas trees—and desire to spend Christmas in a non-tropical climate.

This city is completely magical during the holidays and my only wish would be for the ability to experience all of it without the soul-crushing crowds. I would take a milky-eyed cab driver or Central Park West hooker any day over a slow-moving crowd of peace-sign-throwing, selfie-taking tourists.

Haines Falls Cemetery

Back at the end of September, David and I went camping around the North/South Lake in the Catskills. On the road leading to the campground, I spotted an old church and graveyard and I made sure to bring it up the next day as we were leaving. David knows me well enough by now to know when I begin a sentence with "If we have time..." that I have a stop in mind, and although I usually make empty promises to be quick, this really was a quick stop (at least I thought it was).

The Haines Falls Cemetery is located behind the Kaaterskill United Methodist Church on North Lake Road in Haines Falls, NY. A plaque dedicated by the Haines Family Association mentions five ancestors and their families who "explored, settled and helped develop the mountaintop area beginning in the 1700s. They were a hardy breed: farmers, foresters, tanners, hunters, trappers and homemakers who helped tame this beautiful, but wild land."

I could tell from the road that the graveyard was old and it's small (I found online records for 28 graves) but has some really lovely stones. I love stones covered in lichen and moss, and fallen leaves always help to make any burial ground just a little bit spookier.

At first I didn't see anything too memorable in this cemetery, but then I saw this monument, erected "In memory of those who lost their lives in Twilight Inn Fire, July 14, 1925" and I knew I had to know more about this tragedy. From a NY Times article published on the day of the fire, it's stated that 12 people were confirmed dead and eight were still missing. Eleven of those bodies were charred so badly that identification was impossible. The fire began in the middle of the night, in the servants' wing of the hotel, possibly due to a lighted cigarette. There were so many casualties, it's suspected, because guests scrambled to take their belongings with them as they escaped.

Oh, and this cemetery also had a stone that just simply says "Allie." My full name is Alexandra, but I've been called Allie as long as I can remember, and I've never seen a headstone that hit so close to home. No last name, no birth or death dates, no epitaph, just my name. I don't intend to be buried, or ever have a headstone—and if I did it would hopefully at least have a few skulls on it— but I think it's obvious why I felt the pull of this little cemetery as soon as I saw it.

Holiday Windows 2017: Saks

Over the past five years, Saks Fifth Avenue's holiday windows have been either hit or miss for me. They have a lot of prime real estate to work with and usually the Fifth Avenue windows are holiday focused, while the 50th and 49th Street windows feature more traditional fashion themes. What Saks does best (and something that no other store in New York seems to care much about) is crowd control. Maybe it's because they're located right across the street from the always-hectic Rockefeller Center, but the sidewalks outside of Saks are a nightmare during the holidays.

Luckily, Saks has railings installed (I think they're only up for the holiday windows), which help to funnel window-watchers into a single-file line. I'm not a huge fan of crowds, so I appreciate their attempt to create order and a sense of fairness. This is the first year that Saks didn't have a bouncer (for lack of a better word) directing the line, but it was still more orderly than the chaos that lingers outside of Bergdorf's.

The line to see the windows at Saks wrapped around the side of the store, but it moved quickly and this year's windows are definitely worth the wait. Saks collaborated with Disney to celebrate the 80th anniversary of Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs. Each of the 14 windows depicts a different scene from the iconic movie and feature Snow White herself, all seven dwarfs, the evil queen, the witch, the prince and tons of little woodland creatures including chipmunks, bunnies, birds and deer.

Saks has done fairytale-themed windows in the past, but this year's were definitely a step above previous years' designs in terms of scope, cohesiveness and old fashioned holiday magic. I've said it before, but as much as I dislike children, I often find myself drawn to child-like things, and these windows delighted the 12 year old lurking beneath my 32-year-old resting bitch face.

I'm not a rabid Disney fan, but the Saks windows remind me of vintage window displays and they'd be right at home at Main Street of Yesteryear. The figures animate in charming little ways, and they're so cute that there's no need for digital displays or too much technological whizz-bang (Hi, maybe I'm actually 80 years old). Of course they also reminded me of another animated Snow White display—the one of questionable provenance currently at the Magic Forest—and that only made me love these Saks windows even more.

Ferncliff Cemetery

Ferncliff Cemetery in Hartsdale, NY, has been on my radar since 2014 when I went to Hartsdale's other famous burial space, America's first pet cemetery. I had intended to also walk to Ferncliff that day, but I spent more time at the pet cemetery than I had anticipated, and the route to Ferncliff didn't look too pedestrian-friendly. When my Uncle visited recently, he suggested that we take a day trip to Ferncliff to pay our respects to some of its celebrity residents, and I've never turned down an invitation to explore a cemetery. 

Ferncliff isn't a traditional cemetery in the sense that it doesn't have upright headstones—outdoor graves are marked with flat markers—but the majority of its residents are housed in three large, multi-level mausoleums. The first one, just called Ferncliff Mausoleum (or the Cathedral of Memories), was built in 1927. In 1933 they began to operate a crematory and it's still very much an active cemetery—Ferncliff currently performs approximately 10% of all cremations in New York State. 

Ferncliff is a beautiful, obviously well-maintained burial space, but I couldn't help but notice that a lot of the letters and numbers have fallen off over the years and don't seem to be replaced. It must be a budget choice—to do stick-on letters or have the information carved directly into the marble—but I appreciate whoever took matters into their own hands and augmented Alfred's dates with ballpoint pen. 

We went to Fercliff in search of celebrities—Joan Crawford, in particular—and we stopped at the office for a map to help us. We mostly stayed in the Ferncliff Mausoleum and although the map had exact coordinates for each person, it was almost impossible to find our way around with out some help. We eventually deciphered the system enough to find everyone we were looking for, if sometimes only by accident.

There aren't a lot of contemporary celebrities buried here, but some of the notables include James Baldwin, Aaliyah, Malcom X, Ed Sullivan, and Thelonious Monk. Jim Henson, Nelson Rockefeller, John Lennon and Christopher Reeve were all cremated at Ferncliff, but are interred elsewhere. Unfortunately I came a few months too late to visit Judy Garland—at the request of her three children, Garland's remains were moved to California in June and reinterred in Hollywood Forever Cemetery (perhaps I'll visit her next week!).

Actively searching for a few key people helps direct any cemetery visit, but I also like the unexpected surprises you encounter just by wandering—some of my favorites were the Fish / Salmon pairing, the Baumanns and their kisses and Dr. Luigi Mottola's epitaph, "Let Us Talk."

---

Ferncliff Cemetery
280 Secor Road,
Hartsdale, NY 10530
Open daily, 9am-4pm
Take Metro North to Hartsdale and the cemetery is an 8-minute car ride away
(I don't recommend walking from the train station; the route is definitely not pedestrian-friendly).

Holiday Windows 2017: Bloomingdale's

Holiday window display season is upon us, and this is my fifth time seeing the windows from Bergdorf Goodman, Bloomingdale's, Saks Fifth Avenue and Tiffany. There are other window displays, of course, but these are the big ones that I specifically seek out every year. There is usually a clear standout, but this year I thought all four were as good or even better than previous years' displays. I'll start with my "least" favorite and end with the best—which doesn't really mean much because I enjoyed them all—but up first is Bloomingdale's.

My mom and I usually reserve a weekend day during December or late November to go look at the new windows, and we always start with Bloomingdale's. I've been disappointed in their window displays in the past, and they're usually my least favorite of the bunch. They were a little cartoonish in 2013, all over the place stylistically in 2016 and not impressive or memorable enough for me to photograph in 2014 and 2015. But this year's "Greatest Showman" theme, based on the upcoming P.T. Barnum movie musical is leaps and bounds above anything they've shown in the past five years. 

I love anything that has a carnival, sideshow or old-timey Coney Island feel, and the windows feature scenes from the movie embellished with more than 7,600,000 Swarovski crystals. The windows are full of acrobats, ringmasters and performers of all types. There's even a bearded lady, a tattooed couple, a wolf man and a pair of conjoined twins (made out of what are obviously women mannequins turned into men). 

When my mom got to one window in particular, she called me over and said "you're going to like this one!" I had no idea when I decided to be a Grandmother's Predictions fortune-telling machine for Halloween this year that I would see a variation of my costume show up in a holiday window display (it's not the first time there's been overlap). At the risk of sounding full of myself, I do think mine was better (if only because how do you top a classic like Grandma?), but the fortune I received from the Bloomingdale's version was very apropos.