In 1994 Megan Kinney opened her first MEG shop in NYC’s East Village. Her locally manufactured, independently-owned fashion label is designed and operated exclusively by women, and sales often go to support causes that affect the lives of women and girls here at home and also abroad. The shop on N 6th Street in Williamsburg, also serves as Meg’s design studio, so patterns for future garments hang along side current collections—giving the space the warmth and appeal of an artists’ workshop. And it’s not uncommon to discover Meg, a ray of Brooklyn-sunshine, herself working away or chatting with her adoring customers. MEG’s enthusiastic staff will always go to great lengths to make you feel like you’re buying a custom garment. Their trained eyes make certain that every seam sits in just the right place or off to their tailor it goes—and POOF! suddenly you have a little taste of local couture in your closet.

Occasionally I'll look at the Manhattan skyline and wonder what it was like in 1931 when people around the world were saying, "Holy shit, did you hear what they just built in New York?" Just get up there and trip out about humanity. And be sure to keep an eye out for the unmarked locked door guarding a set of stairs leading to a hidden terrace that was originally designed as a fucking docking station for zeppelins.

Bill Brand presents an animated movie to passengers on the B and Q subway trains coming into Manhattan from Brooklyn. The project was modeled after the zoetrope, a 19th-century optical toy, which animated images inside a revolving cylinder, so that they appeared to move when viewed through narrow slits. Brand mounted 228 hand-painted panels in self-contained, illuminated units along the three-hundred-foot platform. Hop on a Manhattan-bound B or Q train at the Dekalb Avenue stop (corner of Dekalb Avenue and Flatbush Avenue Extension). Look out any window on the right side of the train.

The oldest still-operating restaurant in New York City, still in the family of the original founders. At Christmastime, it's decorated to the nines. Go with a big group: portions are large and the wine flows liberally. Look for the little buttons on the walls: in the old days, the mafia would hang out in the back room, and if diners saw the cops come in, they'd press the buttons so the mafia guys could run out the back.

Get the perfect ingredient for your selfmade springrolls in the middle of the craziness of Chinatown/Little Italy! An experience you should not miss!