Welcome to Girls Talk, in which two of our favorite New Yorkers share the text messages they sent during this week’s episode of Girls.
Mark Schafer/Courtesy of HBO
Gina Pollack takes a selfie.
The text in green belongs to Gina Pollack, a photographer and writer who has lived in North Brooklyn since before the dawn of Hannah Horvath. She is the news editor for Greenpointers, which means she knows way too much about toxic sludge and Polish doughnuts.
Katarina Hybenova takes a selfie.
The text in gray belongs to Katarina Hybenova, a media entrepreneur, award-winning photojournalist and founding editor of Bushwick Daily. Born and raised in Slovakia, she lived and studied in Prague and Leuven, Belgium only to find her home in the Bushwick-Ridgewood area, where she lives with her husband and three cats. More →
The East Village is going to be mobbed with “green” drinkers tonight — and that doesn’t mean folks sporting St. Patrick’s Day colors. That means rank amateurs. So where does one go to escape them? Well, we went to Macao, China. More →
Four young males–a 12-year-old, two 14-year-olds and a 17-year-old–were shot Friday evening at South 1st and Roebling Street in Williamsburg. All four victims are expected to live. No arrests have been made. [NY Post] Police have released surveillance photos of the suspect. [Gothamist]
A bus driver suffered a stroke behind the wheel while driving on Nassau Ave. in Greenpoint, injuring at least five people and damaging nearly two dozen vehicles. [NY Post]
When Baltimore-bred musician Mike McFadden came to Brooklyn in late 2012, he brought a new album with him. Having recorded virtually all of the music by himself before the move, all he needed was a band to turn it into a touring reality. Through a mutual friend, McFadden partnered with bassist Anthony Saladino and the two formed the nucleus of Animal Years. More →
As we emphatically announced last month, the folks behind the notoriously debauched East Village gallery-slash-bar Lit Lounge are set to open a cafe-slash-nightclub in Bushwick. Well, that day has finally come… sort of. More →
(Photos: Sherry Hseih) Gail Busche, co-owner of Archangel Antiques.
Normcore is Gail Busche’s nightmare. Ask the co-owner of Archangel Antiques to describe each decade’s fashion in a word or two and she doesn’t hesitate: “’20s short, ’30s slinky, ’40s strong, ’50s elegant, ’60s fun, ’70s out there.” But after that? “The ‘80s was so bad I was happy I could still wear ’40s. And after that, there was no style.”
The East Village store plans to close in June. Busche, 75, and partner and co-owner Ricahrd Cullen, 71, say they can’t keep up with a rent increase and competition with other nearby clothing shops. Back in August 2012, Cullen told The Local East Village that Archangel’s then-rent of $4800 had sextupled since the couple first occupied 334 E. 9th Street.
There’s going to be a full moon this Sunday, so naturally women in Brooklyn will be blessing H2O in a sacred bowl, drinking it, and then pouring the remainder into the East River. This Full Moon Water Ceremony will be taking place at Carriage House Birth, Williamsburg’s hippest birth collective (a collective of doulas) owned by Samantha Huggins, Lindsey Bliss and Domino Kirke – daughter of Bad Company’s Simon Kirke, and sister to Girls’ Jemima Kirke. More →
(Photos: Virginia McLure) Glasses of the Clifford Pilsner at Dirck the Norseman.
So, perhaps you’ve made it to Dirck the Norseman in Greenpoint by now, tasted their pig knuckle, sipped their German beer, admired the murals and thought, This is the life.
It gets better. Yesterday, the people behind Dirck the Norseman, celebrated the coming out into the world (and the bar) of their eight proprietary craft beers, all brewed in-house and the brain-children of Norseman owner Ed Raven and Chris Prout, head brewer. More →
Pi Written From Memory, 0-4000. 18″ x 24″ Oil on canvas 2013 Pi is used as a pattern on individual plains, echoing the cubist use of lettering and collage. (Photo: Courtesy of the artist)
For approximately π seconds, it seems like Evan Daniel Smith is lost. His dark eyebrows point down towards the almost empty page in front of him while he murmurs to himself. His narrowed eyes focus intently on the sequence of twelve tiny numbers he has etched in black ink: 972177528347. These seemingly random digits have been read aloud to him – a life raft in a sea of numbers. All he knows is this sequence could be anywhere in the first 10,000 digits of pi. Smith taps his pen. The page stares back at him, blankly. More →