I never thought that the street I used to live on would achieve a level of fame that eclipsed my own, but it has happened. South 3rd Street in Williamsburg is big news on Curbed.com because of the ugly condos that are
springing up all over it. Two buildings are going up at South 3rd and Bedford Ave. I actually lived on a nice block, South 3rd between Berry and Wythe. But everything between Berry and Bedford and points west was disgusting. In fact, it took my drug addicted father just one Thanksgiving afternoon to identify the corner of Bedford and South 3rd as "the place where they sell crack." Now it's the place where they sell $500k+ one-bedroom condos. Click on the link to see how ugly these things are. Seriously, if the developers can't invest in a decent design plan and/or attractive brick, do you think they are giving you a quality condo for your money? I can sum up what I think in two words: mold litigation.
In other Williamsburg news, Old Navy has immortalized the 'hood's greatness with a
t-shirt that claims to celebrate "Brooklyn's hippest locale." Even the Wall Street Journal is snarky about this piece of information. They ran a picture of the shirt with a caption: "Time to Move, Hipsters." With the following story:
Keeping It Real EstateWe now have proof that the real-estate bubble -- at least in New York City -- is about to burst: The Gap Inc. chain Old Navy is selling women's T-shirts celebrating, according to OldNavy.com, "Brooklyn's hippest locale!" That's right: Fashionable fems (and probably the skinny guys who populate the hood) can now splash "Williamsburg" across their chests. Note to real-estate brokers and investors: This is what we call a sell signal. Ah, it seems just like yesterday that we were getting mugged and tossed off the subway in that corner of the city. (OK, it was next door in Greenpoint, and it was 14 years ago. But still.)
Of course, this is old news. Hipsters in the know (aka my husband and I) left a year ago.
And speaking of hipsters, I am starting to really hate them. At least some of them who live and congregate in and around New York. In the past two weeks, HG and I have been to two hipster festivals: the New Pornographers concert in Prospect Park, and the Steve Malkmus/Yo La Tengo 4th of July concert in Battery Park.
Before I skewer the Prospect Park crowd, I must admit that I as a pregnant woman at a rock concert, I have no right to complain about what I am about to complain about. That being said, how many fucking Brooklyn babies love the New Pornographers? Answer: a lot, if this show was any indication. I felt like I had the date confused and ended up at a performance of
The Wiggles. There were toddlers and post toddlers and infants - some seriously young infants. As impossible as it may sound, I swear I counted more strollers than people. We got there late and set up a blanket on a rough patch of lawn - it would have been a decent spot were it not for the strollers blocking our view from every side. Other than that, the show was fine. It was hardly even a show, more like sitting on a lawn with friends and background music and about three thousand uninvited babies. Seriously, I have nothing against babies rocking out. My parents took me to a Santana concert as a child. It's just a little unsettling being surrounded by your own obvious demographic group.
But at least babies get into the music. The other reason I hate hipsters is they are so blasé about everything. The Steve Malkmus show in Battery Park was great. He opened for Yo La Tengo, but we left before they went on. I have seen Yo La Tengo perform so many times that, when given the choice between seeing them and beating traffic so we can get home to watch "The Aviator" on Netflix, I pick the latter. Anyway, while Malkmus was rocking, many members of the audience sat knitting or playing cards. A lot of people did stand up, but many of them just watched stoically, with arms folded across their chests. What were they expecting? Were they enjoying themselves? I mean, the line to this show wrapped around the entire park and it didn't get any shorter as the day went on. If they were just waiting out the performance to see Yo La Tengo, they were probably in for a disappointment - that band was not going to give a better show than what they were seeing. No, the truth is, indie audiences are too cool to rock. It's really annoying. Sometimes I wish that an indie rock concert was more like a Grateful Dead show, with people just letting themselves get into it. Take off your shoes, twirl around, loosen up your ironic t-shirt and enjoy yourself.
Malkmus's music came close to the Grateful Dead vibe - his
new album celebrates a 70s sound in all of its glorious cheesiness - but the audience did not have the stuff to take advantage of it. Well, with one exception. Every single member of the audience must have stepped on our blanket at least once, creating a sort of blanket mud pit that only a hippie could fathom. I almost got into a fist fight with one bitch who just stood there, grinding her nasty girth into my blanket with her stupid Converse All Stars. HG calmed me down, explaining that we didn't buy real estate, we just put a blanket down at a rock concert. Still, everyone else's blanket was relatively unscathed. Why did ours serve as a path to and from the stage? I have a baby growing in me, I can't have untold shoe debris and foot concerns festering near me, following me home, finding shelter in my washing machine.
That was probably my last pregnant concert-going experience. I have been banished from next week's Dinosaur Jr. concert at Central Park's Summerstage because my husband would prefer our baby be born with hearing (spoil sport). I'm almost relieved. If I can get this roiled over stroller-wielding alphahipsters and disaffected indie ho-hums with dirty feet, I don't want to imagine what a Dinosaur Jr. audience would do to me.
