This Bookstore has an amazing photography section. I go here to get inspired. You can spend hours in here looking at all kinds of great photography books.
Website
strandbooks.com
Address
Strand Book Store, The Strand, New York, United States
Current city: New York
Stephan Würth is a photographer originally from Germany who grew up between Munich, Texas and California. He discovered photography at age fourteen during a family vacation in Spain; his favorite subjects were sun-bathing women on the Costa del Sol. In 2000, he enrolled in the Art Institute of Ft. Lauderdale to study photography, and after graduating, became a full time photographer. Some of his clients include Vogue (Latin America), GQ (UK, Italy and Germany), Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Edition, Esquire, Levi’s, AOL, Bonobos, Macy’s. In 2011, Stephan released his first book “Ghost Town” published by Damiani. Würth currently resides in New York City’s West Village with his wife, Vanessa.
 

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The graphic designer Rudolph de Harak created a three-story digital clock installed on the exterior of 200 Water Street. The clock consists of 72 square modules with numerals that light according to date, hour, minute and second.
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A beautiful and abandoned New York subway station from 1904, complete with chandelier. Take the 6 train heading downtown. When the train makes its final stop at the “Brooklyn Bridge/City Hall” station, passengers are told to exit the train. Stay on the train and duck down so as not to be easily spotted. When the train departs the station, it will pass through the abandoned City Hall Station.
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This is a tiny street with a lot of character and can be often missed. I love the little brick houses and coloring of the street.
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A still stunning space, harking back to the 1990s NYC that had fantastic, tasteful boutiques.
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It starts when a friend implores you to eat downstairs at La Esquina, the subterranean brasserie branch of Derek Sanders's Mexican axis of Kenmare Street. The food’s cheaper and probably better at the walk-in-only cafe around the corner from the restaurant’s entrance—a door disguised by a taqueria counter and a sign that reads “Employees Only”—but there’s a certain category of New Yorker who thrives on having what others don’t. A reservationist will ask you if you’ve “dined with us before,” and in general, it takes knowing someone in the industry, smooth talking, or (velvet-rope flashback) looking good and confident at the door, to waltz in at prime time. The reward is dining in a Mexican dungeon as styled for a Vogue shoot, complete with metalwork, distressed stone walls, and water dripping on the back of your neck (though the owners can probably thank the air conditioner for the added atmospherics). Making up the grinning crowd at secluded booths and in private cells (?): a healthy mix of models, cougars, and maybe John Mayer picking his way through red snapper ceviche, cauliflower and avocado taquitos, grilled octopus tostados, or a plate of tuna tartare with a tamarind glaze. If the food sounds light, you’re right; it’s playing to the delicious crowd.  This is, what "The New Yorker" wrote about this fantastic place!
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