Dore archive Things New Yorkers Do

Things New Yorkers Do

Author Garance Doré

I can’t believe it’s been three years since I moved to New York.

So much has happened in the past three years: I learned to navigate New York City, un-learned how to speak French (which is a tragedy in and of itself), adopted a leaf of kale, and have come to observe (and yeah, make fun of) some New Yorker habits before realizing that I’ve joined their ranks myself.

So yeah, I confess, here’s…


The Stuff I Do

– Yelling at a cab because he didn’t stop yet had his light on. Yelling at someone who jumped in our cab right in front of us. Getting in a fight with someone who is trying to steal our taxi. Throw some colorful insults at the dirty thief and get thumbs up from everyone on the street. End up on the subway.

– End up thinking that subway, it’s actually not that bad!

– Live with a to-go cup of coffee permanently attached to your hand.

– Have your own super specific cup of coffee. Mine? Tall latte with a half shot. And no one looks at me weird when I order it.

– Plan on working out everyday, never make it to the gym, feel super guilty, end up drinking tequila at a bar with your friends to get over your guilt while cursing the impossible standards New York forces us all to try to live up to.

– Talk about healthy food, eating macrobiotic and getting colonics all while eating a burger at Black Market because it’s the BDBNY (The Best Damn Burger in New York).

– Be adamant about how you know the true BDBNY.

– Order EVERYTHING. Breakfast, lunch, dinner, coffee, wine, shopping, clothes, weed, sex, love, movies, order ANYTHING at anytime.

– Say, “I’m going on a yoga retreat.”

– Say, “I can’t sign any contracts this week because Mercury is in retrograde.”

– Say, “I’m looking for a healer. Do you know a good healer?”

– Use Oh my god to open or conclude any sentence to express sadness, joy, surprise, anger, boredom, pleasure. Oh my god yes!

– Say, “Oh my god we haaaaave to get some coffee together!!!!” and then never ever text.

– Not see your friends for three months even though you live on the same street because everyone in the world is too busy.

– Take a walk in jogging pants for every occasion… To go to the gym, take your dog for a walk, head over to the deli, head over the spa, head over to nowhere at all, head to brunch but make everyone think you’re on your way from the gym (pick a good pink blush for this one), so yeah, point is, jogging pants, everywhere, all the time.

– Almost lose your sh#t because you just realized that the dinner you just said yes to is in BROOKLYN. Ugh.

– Bitch about how everyone is too busy and then hear some guy say, “Dinner?! Yes of course! How does three weeks from now sound to you?” after looking at his planner.

– Say, “Whatever, who needs that guy? He’s a modelizer.”

– Spend three weeks planning said dinner, send 3543 emails to get 4 fu#*%g friends together, an hour on the phone with the restaurant to get a good table at a decent hour (Ok, just, any table. Okay, 9:30. Ok.) and then…

– Cancel at 9:27 because “Oh my god I’m just so tired. Would you be upset if…”

– Say with a totally blasé look “Oh hey look, Cameron Diaz is seated at the table behind you.” “Oh, so annoying, they’re shooting Girls on my street, it’s a mess.” “Yeah, there were tons of paparazzi by my house today.” (We all have celebrities who lives on our block.)(Guess mine?)

– Be in a good mood all the time. Smile, talk to strangers in the street, be super friendly, hold the door open, be generally very well behaved, unless some asshole is trying to steal your taxi.

– Never carry cash and HAVE NO IDEA WHAT TO DO WITH YOURSELF if some shop only takes cash. What? Cash? What? What’s that? Why?

– Give everyone the biggest hugs like you’re BFFs that haven’t seen each other for three years even if it’s only the third time you’ve ever met someone.

– Say “OMG I LOVE YOU” to someone you think is nice.

– Be super excited about pretty much everything, working all the time, having always a new project, doing 75 different things at the same time yet still say that you’re not doing enough.


The stuff I don’t do yet, thank god.

– Scheduling a weekend tighter than Kim K’s bosom. 9:00 yoga, 11:00 pre-brunch with two friends, 1:00 brunch with your love, 3:00 mani-pedi with your best friend, 5:00 run all over town to figure out what you’re going to wear for dinner, 6:00 cocktails, 8:00 dinner, 11:00 head out dancing. The next day, pick some different people and do it all over again.

– Have lunch in front of your computer at work.

– Work until 2:00 am without complaining because that’s the price you pay for having a “creative” job. Ok, complain a little, just for the pleasure of.

– Swear by Soul Cycle, Ballet Beautiful, or Physique 56, three different workouts that supposedly build you long lean muscles and whose reputation is built on their difficulty, their exorbitant prices, and the impossibility of finding a spot in their classes “Yeah yeah, what you’re saying is true Garance, but it’s incredible! It changed my life! I’m addicted!”

– Have a dog and someone to walk it. Or put your dog in a dog nursery where the dogs are “very happy as they spend their time socializing and playing with other dogs (yeah, socializing) instead of just waiting for their owner to come home. It’s so much better!”

 – Throw down $10,000 per year on a trainer and then justify the expense by saying that if you’re in awesome shape, you’ll spend less on clothes, which is completely false.

– Endure in the name of the Holy Sacred Brunch restaurants where you have to shout to hear anyone, throw some elbows to find a menu that only proposes eggs anyway, and where the bill’s on the table before you had the chance to put your last fork back on your plate, twice a weekend, and start again the weekend after.

– Pretend like you’re totally entrenched in the conversation you’re having with your neighbor all while scanning the room deciding which person you’re going to say hello to next.

– Go on vacation to Tulum, or the Hamptons, or Upstate to “get away from the stress of New York life.” And then realize that the entire world had the same idea and find yourself at a work dinner while on vacation with the same people from New York but a little more tan and a little more drunk. Complain together about life in NYC.

– Come back and shed a tear the first time you see the Empire State Building through the window on the plane. Instagram from the plane because who cares about scrambling signals. New Yorkers know that signals haven’t been scrambled since the 70’s because they’re just smart like that. Write out #NewYorkILoveYou.

And the worst is that despite all their faults, I understand New Yorkers. I make fun of them a little, but not too much: I’m one of them now. Because you know what one of the favorite New Yorker past times is?

Talking about being a New Yorker.

So, did I forget anything ?


PS: I’m putting together a similar post about Paris. Do you have any ideas about the typical Parisian behavior? I have a couple gooooood ones :)