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To each, his own.
By dougm | February 4, 2012
Yes.
keep that in mind.
New York City.
There are scenes, parties, people, life moves.
People dress up in definitions of they’re own individualism, each of them, different, the same as someone else.
Little armies of suits and hipsters roam the city. High Class Hookers brush arms with the Bergdorf Blondes. Mohawks and gang colors, pocket protectors and pleated pants. Haute couture and second hand shoes. Hair extensions and black #1. Poseurs with pointed toes and poseurs with chuck taylors. Slick your hair or buzz it off, keffiyeh or yarmulke. fedoras and ballcaps. Tight slack expatriates and tight denim punks. Locals and imports, everyone’s got a scene.
Stand in line at hot clubs and get your affirmation, or get it by refusing to do so. Go to your temples, mosques, and churches, your dives and clubs, your sportsbars and speakeasies.
whatever you dig. Do your thing, you all fit in here, and the city wouldn’t be great without you.
Existing extemporaneously, whether you’re living your life or someone else’s. Starting at Center or sideline sniping.
So love the city, the trains, the cabs, the tourist traps and the specialist scenes. This place kicks ass. So do your thing, This is fucking New York.
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