UPSTATE TO DOWN SOUTH
EAST CHATHAM, HUDSON, MANHATTAN, BROOKLYN, RICHMOND & MYRTLE
Billy Joel’s New York State of Mind verse — “Don’t care if it’s Chinatown or on Riverside” — could not have played louder in my head last Saturday as I rolled into Manhattan on Riverside and caught sight of the George Washington Bridge. I nearly applauded right there in the car. Oh, how I’ve missed my lady!
But my love affair with this city has now expanded into the UPSTATE of her state, where I started my trip two Thursdays ago — and where practically every Manhattanite is now calling “home” — or "vacation home.”
I touched down in New York’s capital city, Albany, and immediately removed my jacket and sweater — was that even possible? That New York was hotter than South Carolina? It was.
I flew in to visit one of my best friends, Marissa, and her husband Hannis, at what used to be their vacation home, turned full-time home (and after staying there, I can completely understand why!!) on Bear Paw Road. I told them on repeat that if I lived there, it would be my never-leaving-ever-ever home. I was IN LOVE with it. It was cozy, beside a lake, private, and had a screened porch that I claimed as my own for the full 62 hours I was their guest.
Also, can we talk about that name? Bear Paw Road? If that’s not the most adorable rue for an upstate New York address, then honestly, what are we even doing here?
And!! Because life is apparently scripted by a very cute small-town novelist — another one of my best friends, this one from Charleston, just started spending time in an upstate home herself. Can you handle it? These two friends, from completely different chapters of my life, at this moment are staying in homes 20 minutes apart (and will be best friends if I, and life’s cute small-town novelist, gets it right!) in the most all-American towns.
I mean. What are the odds? With two best friends there — and a third on her way (Erica, who will be moving there in July to open up Hilltown Hot Pies), along with the scenery that I will be getting into shortly, it’s no surprise that I fell madly, head-over-heels, in love with this whole region. Like, a dangerous level of smitten kitten.
Speaking of kittens…
Turns out, I was there also to conquer a fear. Marissa and Hannis have two boys who answer to the names of Sid and McGregor, and who also answer to pouncing pussy cats. I was told… only after I was buckled in tight and en route to their home from the airport… that if McGregor “liked me,” I would know it due to him sporadically pouncing onto my shoulders. Hummmmmm, whaaaaaaa???!! Non merci! I was petrified. And turns out, so were these two Cornish Rex felines. They were curious little pussies – but they were not curious enough to get on my shoulders. Thank Gawd! In fact, they wanted little to nothing to do with me. When Marissa held McGregor up to me for an introduction, he basically gave me the hand (or paw rather) as I went in for the stroke. No joke. We laughed hard as I was the one working up the courage to pet him, and yet like a reflex, his paw went up to forbid me from getting any closer. Avec plaisir, I thought – with relief.
He and I did end up liking each other, even though we never actually touched. And we basically camped out together on the screen porch nearly every moment that I was at his house. He’d perch quietly on the window seal, staring intently at the bird’s nest being built above him like it was his life’s work, while his brother Sid would peek around the corner with this permanently confused look — like, “Wait… you’re not my mom. Who even are you? And why are you on my porch?” While I pretended to read my book – as I kept one eye on the words and the eye on those unexpected shoulder pouncers.
Each day, either before Marissa started work or once she wrapped up, she took me on a grand tour of all the local gems. We hit up Samascott’s for provisions, OK Pantry for their dangerously good matcha chocolate swirl bread, and Greenhouse Cidery at Berry Farm as we ate from Yummy Kitchen (which, 100%, lived up to the name). We squeezed in mini hikes at Ooms and on the grounds of PS21 — a center of contemporary performance with statues throughout the property, and stopped by the Old Chatham Country Store, where I somehow paid $5.37 for a can of peach tea. Yes, a can. And yes, I audibly said “Jesus” when the cashier rang it up – Because what kind of price even is that? For a can that isn’t laced with, I don’t know… gold!? We also went to Saisonner for the meet cute of Marissa, Sarah, and Drew (Sarah’s sweet boyfriend who too is a Charlestonian, and who is responsible for introducing our Sarah to this part of the world. Yay!). I think they all loved each other! Life’s cute small-town novelist mastermind (and I)… nailed it! Not to mention – I was over the moon to have had this serendipitous moment work out. I mean truly, what are the odds that we would all be in that area on the same night!?
Over the three days I stayed in East Chatham, Hannis and Marissa even let me borrow one of their cars while they worked. I took full advantage — touring the towns and inching my way along the roads like someone who had just discovered architecture. Pretty sure I maxed out at 15 mph in a 35. Couldn’t help it. I didn’t want to miss one single house. I was in AMERICA.
I don’t know about you. But when I picture America, I picture exactly where I was… a New England backdrop of: wooden houses with flags proudly waving, hydrangeas exploding in bloom, men in Polos faithfully watering their lawns, rocking chairs stationed on every porch, Bambi and her mama posing on every hillside, chipmunks dashing from tree to tree like they had deadlines, and old-timey storefronts with red, white and blue “We’re Open” banners flapping in the breeze.
East Chatham, Kinderhook, Hudson — they had it all. They were my perfect image of AMERICA. J’adore!
NEW YORK NEW YORK
We left Hudson in a full-on downpour last Saturday. I had tagged along with Marissa for her hair appointment in the city (or are we still calling this a town?), and while she was getting her blowout, I wandered off to window-shop at Red Chair on Warren — my new favorite store, and of course it was, because everything inside was imported from France. My soul practically sighed in a reminisce. Delicate china, hand-sewn linens, engraved silver... I was emotionally cradled by overpriced elegance, and the familiarity of my last two years. C'était génial!
Meanwhile, poor Marissa walked out of the salon looking like a shampoo commercial — only to step directly into a monsoon. So much for that $60 blowout. We laughed about it, though, as I unwrapped my bagel from Circles. Which, by the way, came with its own audible "Jesus" moment — when they announced that it would be $18 for a bacon, egg, and cheese. What are we even doing?! I mean. It shocked me, yes. But naturally, I had to taste what all the rave was about.. And, for that price, I felt compelled to upgrade. So I did… for an anchovy, butter, herbs, pickled vegetables, everything bagel that was delicious!! Yet, absolutely not worth the thousand-dollars.
We wrapped things up with dessert from Mel The Bakery before we drove to the Big Apple. Because if you’re going to get soaked and price-gouged, you might as well end on a sweet note. Am I right?
Pulling into NYC, a New Englander eased our transition from upstate to city life — Noah Kahan. He came dancing through the speakers. Brand new to me, and, as it turns out, old news to pretty much everyone else who listens to music. Pop culture could hit me square in the face and I still wouldn’t recognize it. On this trip alone, I was introduced to Bad Bunny (a global superstar, Grammy winner, total mystery to me) and Doechii (a female rapper, also Grammy winner, whose lyrics made me want to break into a sprint. Not metaphorically. Just… physically run).
We arrived at Marissa’s apartment on Riverside, where, as I wrote earlier, I immediately started humming New York State of Mind before I hopped on the 1,2,3 line that took me from 145th Street to Clark Street station in Brooklyn Heights. Vivian’s hood!
V and I had so much to giggle about. We hadn’t seen each other in, oh, six-ish weeks — which felt like forever, considering how often she had crossed the ocean to visit me in Paris through the years.
We set out for Greenpoint — a neighborhood that Erika and Kaki, two certified Brooklyn babes, insisted I had to consider as I searched for a potential neighborhood in NYC. But before we even made it there, we decided to post up at Gus & Marty’s for a little aperitif. While we were settling in, the owner, Sarah, walked in. Turns out she and Vivian are dear friends — and ummm, wha??? I knew her too! A wave of memory hit me: I had dinner with Sarah years ago, long before Gus & Marty’s existed, and even before she and her husband opened the now-famous Egg Shop.
We all sat for hours, laughing and catching up — though, hilariously, neither of us could figure out when or where that dinner had happened, or who on earth had introduced us. We really tried. Rolodexes were mentally flipped through, timelines questioned, names dropped. Still, nothing.
And in case you're wondering — yes, we were too — but Vivian wasn’t the link. She met Sarah after I did. So the mystery remains. Classic New York: full of accidental reunions and unsolvable friend-of-a-friend puzzles.
We bopped over to see the hood and then looped around where we got two scoops of the yummiest ice cream at Davey’s Ice Cream. Then roamed the streets until we found our way back to Congress Street where we queued up A Rainy Day in New York. PS: Woody Allen did it again! Best NYC movie!
Throughout my trip we dined at Ingas, Popina, Laurel Bakery, and Fornino with our sweet twin friends Lizzie and Kitty (who I haven’t seen in so long that one has gotten married and had the cutest baby on the planet! And the other was in town scouting wedding-venues. Time flies!), and of course, the classic, Pastis. We ate more ice cream at Van Leeuwen and bought veggies from the Brooklyn farmers market.
And we shopped: The Brooklyn Flea in Dumbo, Front General Store – where Vivian bought the coolest vintage Levi's jacket and it is always a MUST VISIT when in the hood. And then, we venmoed all the women selling their chic vintage pieces at every stoop sale! That’s right! Our New York version of a French brocante. We found all the good finds. A black blazer (what’s new?) for me along with a navy and white striped skirt (again. What’s new? I have the same already – only in pant version), and a suede skirt, the coolest leather mule heels, and denim for Viv.
I also got to see two other best friends while in the city: Fiona and Erica. Fiona and I had a coffees at Café Gitane, another classic NYC cafe in SoHo – sharing all that has been happening with us since our last upgrade-kind-of-phone-call that we have weekly. Before meeting her, I had a walk over the Brooklyn Bridge on a misty moody morning to get a honey croissant concoction from Elbow Bread (thanks to this David Lebovitz recommendation. It was everything! And funny enough, they were all southerners working there. They spotted my accent immediately! So I turned up the volume on it for them as I ordered. They L.O.V.E. loved it!)
By noon I sought off to meet Erica at Gjelina for a pizza and salad lunch before walking 12 miles!!!!! No joke! From there we zig zagged our way through the city as we went to Goop on Bond Street for me to get bullied by some snobby sales reps, drool over all the beautiful products, and then buy the best Forah face sunscreen. We bopped over to Detox Market where I went crazy!! I wanted the entire store! It was the American version of the French brand, Oh My Cream.
Here, I managed to teach the staff about suctioning the face with these tools that I have been searching for, for months and to no avail, in France. I demonstrated for a solid 10min. They provided me with face oils and enthusiasm so I continued to lather up and perform. I sold three packets (ok, two were to me and my friend and only one was to an onlooker in the shop) – given my demo. Luka, our young sales assistant – who we had to forgive for not knowing who Cindy Crawford was (whaaa?) – loved me so much that at the end, while ringing me up, he said “if I was allowed to give you 50% off I would! Instead I popped a ton of samples in your bag and being such a fun customer.” Hmmm yes please! I had them do my brows (hence the model pose pic above!)
After our day of beauty we opted for a slice of cheesecake and the famed pistachio, brown butter, tahini and halva rice crispy treat at Hani’s Bakery (another nod to David Lebovitz). They were perfect! Then we wandered down to check out an apartment that I had had my eye on for weeks (friend of a friend subletting near the new-ish Dimes Square in the LES), we walked down Baxter to our old apartment at 121 (when I moved out, I gave over the lease to E and Will), pop over to Happier Grocery where we are convinced that all that “organic” labeling must be a gimmick. We giggled as we saw that they were selling sea salt under their brand for 3xs the cost of the Maldon sea salt living next to theirs on the shelf.
Then we strolled over to the West Village, where we said goodbye about ten different times on the corner — only to keep starting new conversations and missing the light turning green. Eventually, I let her get on the PATH train, and I wandered down Christopher Street, winding my way through a few turns until I ended up in Washington Square Park.
And that’s when another wild memory hit me.
Have I ever told y’all about the time I met Mary Louise Parker… in her home?! Easily one of the wildest days of my life. I had no idea we were going to her apartment — my family friend, Birgit (who also happens to be an actress), casually mentioned we were stopping by her friend Betty’s place. I didn’t think twice. Betty sounded lovely. What she failed to mention was that “Betty” was actually Mary Louise Parker, an A-lister and only the lead in my favorite movie of all time: Fried Green Tomatoes.
Mary Louise and I hit it off instantly — probably thanks to our shared South Carolina roots (she was born in Columbia!) and double names. But the best / terrible part? I’d just come off a mountain weekend of hiking, swimming in the coldest lake imaginable, and riding around with the top down in a 1978 convertible. So I was... let’s say weathered. Dirty, windblown, and generally feral by New York standards.
When we got to her two-level apartment overlooking Washington Square Park, she reached out, touched my locks, and said, “You have the most beautiful hair.” I just stood there thinking: Should I tell her the secret is not washing it for 36 hours? Eeeek! I didn’t. Ultimately, I went with the safer route — smile, nod, and keep the illusion alive that I woke up like this. Humiliated and flattered all at once. Iconic moment for me!
Ok.. back to it…
I roamed the Upper West and East sides, wandered through my girl, Central Park, and then walked down Museum Mile until I reached the Plaza where Vivian came to meet me. We tried to walk into Monkey Bar for a classic NYC lunch in midtown, but when we saw that it would be impossible, we walked to Matcha Matcha for a mini pick me as we made our way to Bryant Park. (One of my favorite places in all of the city.) When we found ourselves at Pastis, Vivian reminded me that I had done everything I had wanted to on the list I sent her before arriving (maniac! I always do this with people before a trip. Send my intentions … so that there is no missed expectation. It’s a great tool!). With that… I decided to book an earlier flight to Richmond.
After consulting with the newest mommy of two under two, Jane. And receiving her excited YES to come the night before I was originally due to arrive, I changed my flight to the one leaving in 4 hours. Vivian had some big news that day too… so we gleefully walked back to her apartment for me to gather my things and head out, so that she could have the place to herself to share with other friends and family her new news. It worked out beautifully! Dare I say? Flow!!
I made it to the airport just in time to almost miss the flight. I was the LAST one on the plane. So, I took advantage of that position as I made a quick scan for an empty row. Spotted! First class. I didn’t hesitate. I confidently took a seat and not one person said a word. I rode in luxurious extra large comfort the whole way down to see my boodles!
RICHMOND
A red pickup truck pulled up as my Uber at 10:31 pm at RIC airport. I was back in the south! I snuck up Jane’s walkway like a mouse. Walking in the grass mostly so as to not make a sound on her street full of families and their’s full of two babies under two.. I had succeeded until the Uber driver yelled “you good?!” before receiving my silent thumbs up and driving away.
The babies were EDIBLE!
Jimmy, my delicious godson, is cutter by the minute, and his little brother, Eddie, is a precious, active little piglet. He literally snorts while drinking his bottle, which made me a nervous wreck the first ten times I fed him. But by the end of my trip, I craved to hear those noises and snack on his cheeks while he snacked on his bottle.
Somehow, by the time I left, he already looked older. Wild how fast it all happens!
Some of my favorite moments were with Jimmy. My ultimate boodle boy. He loves his “God” so so much – yes, that is still the preferred name in the Gill household for his adoring, kiss on the mouth every chance she got, Godmother. C’est moi! I would come downstairs, lock eyes with him, he’d grab his beloved “trash truck” and run straight over so I could play with him. He’d hand it to me, plop into my lap with his pacifier glued in his mouth, and watch intently while I wound it up and let it glide across the room. He’d wait a beat, then hop up, waddle over to retrieve it, and bring it right back so we could do it all over again. Boodle!
I learned so much about Jimmy this trip! Like, that he calls Patrick, his daddy, “GaGa,” and his mama, Jane, well… “MaMa.” That he loves pressing the buttons in “Pop ca,” Jane’s father, Toby’s car. He likes to point out Kate and Toby’s house (his cousins who live next door) on walks. He enjoys riding around in his push-car like a tiny king. He LOVES to hold his arms out and grunt to hold his baby brother – tilting his head as his way to kiss him. And he is obsessed with his “baketbow” (basketball) – which he will wake up to play at … a sunrise hour, 5am!!
I’m IN LOVE with him!
Jane and I did what we always do: nap together (haha) with a baby nestled in a Boppy between us, organize every closet in her house, power through laundry, sip wine, laugh a ton, and sit for hours on her beautiful couch in her gorgeous home just gabbing about any and everything, person, scenario, and expectation. We belly-cackled with her husband, Patrick, took the boodles on long neighborhood strolls, ordered all the best coffees each morning, made our way to Stella’s for our favorite Cypriot salad — and, of course, one of us got a massage. Usually we do a couples. But this time… it was me, solo! I went to Bardos and had a session with the magical woman who literally put Jane into labor almost two years ago with Jimmy. I mean… is there a more powerful recommendation? She was incredible.
I also got to see Clair and Ashley, who both stopped by at different times for a visit with Jane and me. Clair, a highschool best friend of Jane’s and who I’ve known since almost as long as I’ve known Jane – when I started visiting Richmond. And Ashley who went to college with us, and who lived with both of us (me, kinda, in NYC, and with Jane in DC).
I had the best time! I do every time I visit Jane. But this time, I got to see her as a juggling mama of two, and it was a blessing! She and Pat are doing the best job raising those boodle boys!
Jane kept saying, on repeat: “Having children is not for the faint of heart.” And I felt that truth more than ever this time around watching her. She is a queen! Two under two? A very busy household — but it’s also one overflowing with love and giggles and precious boys. I already miss them!!
MYRTLE BEACH
Now, I’m here in Myrtle Beach. I flew home Friday night to make it in time for my family’s beach week. We’re convinced that my mama and Joe have rented the best house in Myrtle.
We sold our beach house two summers ago down in Garden City (the only place we have ever “summered”), which was heartbreaking, but time. So, this year feels like a fresh chapter. A new tradition beginning.
This house – we counted last night — could sleep 25 people (if you double up in the queens and include the lush couches). It’s old and grand, and owned by a longtime Myrtle Beach local family (like my mother’s). You can feel the history in the walls. Just as you used to could feel it in our Beach House. We’re so happy to be here!
Even Goldie Hawn is smiling. She didn’t want to come inside today — and still doesn’t. She is sleeping under my feet as I type on the porch over looking the dunes. She pranced all the way down the beach this morning like it was her runway. Like daughter, like mother, I guess... I’m the exact same way beside the great Atlantic Ocean.
This evening we will welcome Miller and her crew as we celebrate Father’s Day! Until then, I am soaking in all the quiet and calm with my GH, mama and Joe.
Xxo ac
P.S. A fun surprise from last week — I made three cameos in three of my friends’ newsletters. I was blown away by the love, the shoutouts, and the support. Each one came in unexpectedly and made my heart swell as I opened and read their words. Who knew I was so loved by Erica, missed by Cara, and that my words would be so profound to Blaise? Friendships that make my hear sing! J’adore!!
Goldie!!! She’s looking right at home on the beach ❤️