We used to live in the West Village at 283 West 11th Street near the corner of Bleecker Street. We had been living on Rivington Street on the Lower East Side, but the building was being sold so we had to move. Back then you looked in the Village Voice newspaper for rentals. I found one on 11th Street but I had no idea where the place was. Richard went to look at it, then called me at work to come over. I jumped in a cab and went to look at the apartment, a 5th floor walk-up. Although it was rather shabby, and as I found out, hard to keep clean, we rented it. The view was fabulous. We looked south over the roofs of charming townhouses all the way down to the Twin Towers of the World Trade Center.
One day in August 2001, I was standing on the corner of Bleecker and West 11th, when I had a premonition. The thought entered my mind that New York could be attacked. A month later, on September 9, 2001, a plane flew over the spot where I had been standing and crashed into the north tower of the World Trade Center. Richard and I saw the planes fly into the buildings, and we saw the buildings crumble in billows of gray smoke. That night, we were in shock as we listened to the fighter jets circling Manhattan.
We lived in the West Village for about 10 years, and I loved it. There were antique stores, and the Parrot Jungle store across the street and a good book store on the corner. There was the Lafayette Bakery where I bought Napoleons on my way home from work. When I retired I made art in a creative frenzy in the front room of the apartment.
But since then, the West Village has changed. It is still essentially charming but much of retail shops are empty. Along Bleecker Street, for-rent signs are ubiquitous. Parrot Jungle long ago became the Magnolia Bakery. Ladies and gents, Marc Jacobs, who jumped on the hot retail scene years ago, has left the building. Still, a spirit guided me there to wander.
It's chilly, and the winter sunshine is muted but
kind of glinty gold.
West Village icon, Bigelow's, a fancy pharmacy.
The Jefferson Market Garden. The gate is locked,
but I saw a gardener tidying up.
At a side window of Aedes Perfumery
dusty, esoteric elixirs.
The Diana Broussard shop on Christopher Street.
Exquisite dresses which have been
embroidered, then overprinted and Ms. Broussard's
resin necklaces.
Winter light in the Broussard shop
with her pearl necklaces and earrings.
Pretty Christmas decor on Perry Street.
I stopped at Cafe Cluny for lunch.
This is the view in the bathroom.
It's warm and cozy inside.
When in the West Village, I never miss the chance to
shop at Lilac Chocolates and buy French Mints...
and a dark-chocolate caramel bar.
At the Orla Kiely boutique
an oh-so-romantic frock.
Classic beauty with a grass-green skirt,
at Ms. Kiely's shop.
As I walked down Bleecker, I spied Zuri.
Ever since I read the New York Times piece about the two
New York women who founded Zuri, I have
New York women who founded Zuri, I have
been enamoured of their one-style tunic dresses.
It's described as the perfect dress: wrinkle resistant,
airy and figure flattering.
The fabrics are Dutch waxed cottons purchased from
the markets of Kenya. I purchased this one called "Amplify".
The available patterns. They change often.
The afternoon would not have been complete without
a visit to my friend, Rosemary Wettenhall,
owner of the vintage boutique, Madame Matovu.
Her shop is a fascinating treasure trove.
And Madame always has beautifully
curated windows.
A village staple.
You can smell the bacon from the sidewalk.
And the rice pudding is GOOD.
A Bientot!
