Our New York holiday back in end of June really felt endless and so seem the making of these posts ha. Hope you guys don’t mind! We’ve come to the second last day of it though, because sadly all things must end. This is the one where we had just got back from Toronto to New York the night before.Nicolas had taken the day off and by chance his two flatmates were off too. We got off the tube down somewhere else in Brooklyn to the Australian design workshop and cafe Sweatshop.There it was gorgeous and busy despite it being a friday. We ordered coffee and grilled cheese sandwiches and squeezed down by the large open window.It was if possible hotter than it had been so far during the trip. Not even a sigh of wind coming from anywhere out on the streets. The concrete looked as if it was shaking in feverish heat waves. We stopped by Rough Trade to compare it to the UK ones. And like everything else in the States it was massive in comparison to the european versions.The twins flicked through rows of albums and books. And of course we used their classic photo booth, all six of us crammed in one pic. <3In 37 degrees being out on the streets was like walking through a blazing fire so we didn’t get far before seeking shade again. This time at Devocion. Isabel was heading out to the Hampton’s that night to celebrate 4th of July the next day. She told us about all the fab things she was hoping to do. I just felt like uhmm why in hell am I’m going back to work on my portfolio when I could be sipping cocktails in my bathing suit in front of a glamorous beach villa?Slightly more hydrated we walked around Williamsburg’s street and down to the shore to see the Manhattan skyline. Then all of a sudden it was happy hour so we jumped on the train to go into Manhattan.Isabel and I were happy babies, taking snapchat selfies in our sticky summer glow. This chick I die. Also Canadian of course, because the best ones always are. Marlowe and Jonathon joined us.I figured I’d try and squeeze in as many oyster evenings as possible before having to go back and pay a fortune for them in Sweden. Luckily Marlowe loves (and knows tons about) oysters , more than I do so we forced Nicolas to take us to the Leadbelly.But only after having stopped to let the boys have some fried chicken.The waitress brought us truffle fries and iced Tom Collins whilst we talked about racism in America. The reason being a taxi driver and some rich women getting into a fight right outside the restaurant which finished off with one of the ladies shouting for him to ”go back to his own country”. The whole street went ballistic and everybody shouted at them so much that they hurried back into their car and drove off. I’m not saying the situation is better in Sweden or Europe, it might be even worse to be honest. But I just cannot believe how this is acceptable and still so integrated in our society. And I’m sure I don’t even experience half of what people of colour do. We should all just remember to not fight back in silence, but voice our disgust and stand up against this.
The rest of the night was spent at little bars around Bushwick listening to heavy metal and punk, talking about book deals and being chronically ill. I found 20 dollars on the floor and bought even more oysters at 2am. I hated that we went home before the sun was up. Mostly because going to sleep would mean our trip to be over, and it just couldn’t. But I guess it could because it did.