This winter, I have gotten a little…stuck. I moved to Queens, which is wonderful, but ever since I moved, I have not been interested in straying much outside of my neighborhood. It’s been a brutally cold few months and the spring does not feel like it will ever arrive. Over the winter, I didn’t have any interest in exploration of any kind. I preferred to get in my bed, watch a movie, and eat Nutella by the tablespoon.
But last weekend, my Israeli friend, Yael, who I met in Berlin last year, was in town with her friend. I—reluctantly—changed out of my sweatpants into some real clothes (my jeans barely button thanks to my Nutella consumption) and did my best to be a decent tour guide.
Through pouring rain (but thankfully no snow) we explored a bit of Williamsburg; they both wanted to browse through the antiques and crafts at the Brooklyn Flea.
Shopping isn’t usually my thing, but perusing the knickknacks at the Flea is like digging through gold to find a diamond. I wanted everything. I wanted the vintage patterned plates in my kitchen cabinets, I wanted the colorful stuffed owl on my bed, I wanted a big beaded costume bracelet that I would wear only once before deeming it impractical.