When you come to the good ol’ “Big Apple”, you instantly feel a sense of freedom. Want to know why? BECAUSE NO ONE FUCKING CARES ABOUT YOU. Not in the drop dead, go fuck yourself way (maybe in some cases) but in the way that allows you to be literally whoever you want. That my friend, is where the magic of New York City starts. Let me explain.
I went to Berkeley College for like two seconds in my twenties, and let me tell you. I learned SO MUCH in that short period of time. I’m not talking about what I learned from my “studies.” I’m talking about what I learned from being in New York City. Now let me just preface this with the fact that I’m a people pleaser. I say yes to everything and always want to make people’s lives easier, even if it makes mine terrible.
To put in perspective how pathetically nice I am, I once held the door open to the Eugene O’Neill Theatre for literally every person who came out during the intermission. And yes I said, “you’re welcome” back to every single person with a smile. Now that you have a glimpse of the kind of person I am I’ll continue my story of how the big Bad Apple changed me.
During the two years (if that) that I went to college I learned very quickly that smiles and waves get you absolutely nowhere. It only draws attention to the weirdos. No normal person in New York waves to you, or smiles for that matter. So bitch face it was.
I was angrily bitch-facing my way up the steps in Penn as one does, and I tripped. With my hands in my pockets. I literally almost broke my face on the concrete steps of Penn. Anyway, I got one hand out just in time to catch myself. Along with my hand came like 400 coins of change that I apparently was hanging onto for this very moment. My change went everywhere. My leg was fucked. My face almost broke off and guess what? Not one person stopped. I was merely an obstacle to move over in their daily routine. No one gasped, or asked if I was hurt. I was so embarrassed too. After I picked myself up, I left my change to rot, or be donated to someone. Whatever you’d like to call it.
All I could think about on my walk to school was how no one stopped. No one gawked. No one cared. My embarrassment felt wasted in a way. That was my first tangible experience of no one caring. And yes, in a way no one literally cared about me, but it was more in the way that they didn’t notice my embarrassment? If that makes any sense. OK, I’m invisible, lesson one complete.
Lesson two is pretty similar. I got “hurt” again, no one reacted. This lesson involved a subway ride and a very attractive man that in my head was going to ask me out on a date. You know – that super romantic, city love story, “They met on the subway and it was the beginning of the rest of their lives” kind of story. Well I was quickly woken up from my daydream when the subway halted to an abrupt stop.
I fucking flew across the subway car into what I thought was my “lovers” arms. In reality, this dick bag literally stepped aside so I could fly into the crusty man sitting on the seat behind him. I was like, Holy shit! Thanks a lot, HUSBAND! WE ARE OVER. I didn’t say that aloud, but let’s just add to the drama, OK? Again no one even smirked. Looking back, I feel like if I saw that happen to someone I’d absolutely ask that person if they were alright. Or, if I wanted to play along with everyone else and pretend to be a heartless New Yorker, I would have AT LEAST fucking smirked. I mean it was funny. I’m telling you NOT ONE EMOTION ON ANYONE’S FACE. Again my embarrassment was worthless. Fend for yourself, lesson two complete.
Now you may think, OK, Michele great, you’re a klutz, no one cares and this could happen anywhere. I’m here to say, you’re kind of wrong.
Yes I can make a fool out of myself, anywhere. I honestly do. What you may not be seeing is the lack of giving a shit that makes New York so special.
The more and more I traveled into the city, the more confident I became. When you realize no one cares about you… it’s so freeing. Especially when you grew up on Long Island in a smallish community with everyone breathing down your neck.
That’s why New York City is filled with so many unique people you won’t find anywhere else. You can express yourself any way you want and no one will blink an eye. It’s like you go into a different universe once you step onto the city street. That is New York City magic.
Because of those city streets I have learned to literally not give a shit.
Going to fashion school in the most iconic city in the world introduced me to so many different people and styles. It has opened my mind to being more creative and not fearing what people may think. This is hugely reflected in my outfit choices. Fashion isn’t just about what is trending, it is about expressing yourself. It’s art on your body. At least that’s how I think of it. Yes, I love to keep up with some of the trends, but it’s so important to always add a little bit of you in everything you do.
My advice to you, put on a New York Bitch face, walk in front of your camera wearing what ever the fuck you want AND TELL ME YOU DONT FEEL LIKE A BAD ASS BITCH.
