Ajna Bar

Champagne and Pomegranate Saketinis streamed in an endless flow at Ajna Bar last night. The Meatpacking District club, formerly Buddha Bar, hosted a private party for a hedge fund. I extended the invite to my friend Melissa, and we stepped into our little black dresses-- emerging from the arctic chill that January threatened at Manhattan.

Trays of tuna tartar, Asian meatballs, curried chicken, tenderloin and sushi laced the spaces between dancing couples and whispers in ears. The neon highlighted interior is quite stunning- complete with illuminated jelly fish tanks behind the bar keeps. Girls in feathered lingerie decorated platforms to the corner, as they danced, to perhaps the worst 80's mix of all time (DJ fill out his collection at a discount record shop?)

And somewhere in this hot mess, I offered this tweet: Champagne bathing. NYC is a small town. I know too many in this Jewish wine.

packing meat.

l.u.x.

check (your) peach.

pug life.

time traveler.

"god buns"

(for bradford, 2)

mister.

come now, you've got a story to tell: a photo series

no sheet, chelsea.

revisit, union square.

russkie, smoke & sex: meatpacking.

depths, village.

left to the tracks, park slope.

de(faced) MePa:1

de(faced) MePa:2

step in, step step away, hell's kitchen.

photo series, the meat packing district

corner converge.

stacks and lines.

thoughts and bricks.

promenade.

mixed message.

dove, detached.

yeux

media, mixed.

locked and shaped.

By 1900, the Ganesvoort Market housed more than 250 slaughter houses and meat packing plants. A shift in demand changed the climate to a center for drug deals and prostitution rings (mainly for transsexuals) in the 1980's. Heavily hit my the heroine and crack-cocaine epidemic, the neighborhood wasn't cleaned up until retailers such as Diane von Furstenberg, Stella McCartney and Alexander McQueen began to set up shop. Present-day Meat Packing caters to hipsters and young professionals- standing out as one of New York City's most fashionable neighbhorhoods.

lovely PNW ladies in town!

Putting aside a longish-week of work, I met up with Julia and: weekend visitors Jessica and Devereux at Ono. We sipped on Peach Lychee martinis while catching up on PNW news.
Finishing up at Ono, we wandered along Julia's lead to the Meatpacking District. After a few dead end clubs, we met up with George who pushed us along to 230 Fifth Rooftop bar in Flatiron.

Dancing, rooftop seating and oldish couples from Jersey (not to mention the overwhelming vomit stench near the lavatories and West African attendants who immediately spoke to me in French, seemingly impressed with my ability to comprehend and respond) we made it work-
Jessica, Julia and myself danced until 4am when the music was abruptly cut and bouncers began to push people out the doors. Outside we considered our next steps: food, home.




Desperate for a slice, Devereux jetted around- while I talked Julia and Jessica in Gyros. A crowd of six men surrounded me and began to play twenty questions. Do you work in fashion? No? What do you do? Really? I do that too. Where were you tonight? Huh, what are you doing next? And after you eat that? Just getting in a cab? Where are you from? An Island off Seattle? Would that be Bainbridge? How did I know? I could tell. I know the area....

I looked around in desperation- Julia and Jessica were still negotiating with the gyro cart guy. George had long since caught a cab, Vadim was chasing the Pizza-minded Devereux back towards us. I pointed to Jessica and Julia, "They're from the Island too!"