nyc social clubs: an introduction.
Over the next four weeks, I’m exploring how people are looking for in-person connection using online platforms and apps.
Earlier this year I found myself wandering around the East Village, a handful of puzzle pieces softly rattling around in my coat pocket.
It was an unseasonably warm winter day. Tompkins Square Park and the surrounding streets were so crowded it felt like early spring rather than the last weekend of January. I was walking along Avenue A, on the lookout for coincidences, for things that seemed interesting to me, which I found almost immediately outside of Niagara Bar.
This stretch of Lower Manhattan served as a transition from college nightlife into adulthood during my first year in New York City. Nearly seven years later, thinking about this distant version of myself while looking at the blue neon lights during the middle of the day was both jarring yet comforting. Standing in this spot provided a sense of stability during a period of my life that still felt shaky.
It was nice to know that despite it all - despite a marriage and divorce; a global pandemic and an economic downturn - this small piece of my personal history still existed. I discreetly placed a puzzle piece on a sign, not knowing what would happen but excited nonetheless.
The puzzle pieces, and the accompanying tiny spyglass in my other pocket, were all part of The Association Association, a loosely assembled group of people who want to explore different New York City neighborhoods while enjoying life’s coincidences. During each meeting, we gather at a park where we’re given some puzzle pieces before walking around a small area - usually a four or five-block radius - while we place the pieces around the neighborhood, noting interesting things.
Eventually, we come back together and retrace our steps as a group. People point out where and why they decided to leave a puzzle piece, and if something they say resonates with another person, we briefly chat. It’s a low-stakes way of getting to know people without the awkwardness of rattling off a series of questions that inevitably crop up when you first meet someone in the city.
Whatdoyoudowheredoyouliveareyoufromthecitywheredidyougrowuphowlonghaveyoulivedherewouldyoueverleavewherewouldyougo?
Last winter, I started noticing events promising in-person connections, like the Association Association, popping up across my feed and FYP.
It’s part of a growing number of paid and free experiential groups people are creating in an attempt to find connections off their screens and in person. It started with supper and dinner clubs - curated, intimate dinners from budding home cooks and established restaurateurs typically in someone’s cramped apartment or loft. Then there were book clubs at bars or other venues, typically hosted by rising Gen Z influencers who were newly graduated, rudderless; their plump, juvedermed lips without a syllabus or reading list and in desperate need of a Socrate seminar.
And now there’s this current moment of sleek, black-and-white, minimally edited photo montages of parties and outings around the city. All presented with the promise that this could be you - someone with friends - if you’re willing to pay a price.
In a world defined by algorithms and apps that help us with everything from dating to hailing a ride, it makes sense that there’s a growing interest in facilitating in-person connections. 222, an app using an algorithm to curate in-person social experiences, made its New York City debut after starting on the West Coast and has received over $1.5 million in venture funding - including Y Combinator - since last fall.
This isn’t to say the internet isn’t great at bringing people together. I’m sure we can all point to anecdotes about how entire friendships or even relationships began on a specific message board or video game chat. Gathering online is particularly important for people who, for a variety of reasons, can’t leave their homes or find in-person socialization challenging. But if the internet was the perfect replacement for all of our social needs, then why are people so lonely?
I’ll leave it to the behavioral scientists and sociologists to sort out why that is, but I believe it’s because we thought going online would solve all of our problems, only to find out how lonely it was.
Turns out, maybe there is something special about in-person socialization that we can’t replicate online. Watching a movie with a friend through Zoom is nice - in fact, it’s a technological marvel - but that still can’t replace the little joys and inconveniences that come with watching that same movie together, in person.
We went online because that was the dream of the future Silicon Valley sold us, only to reemerge nearly two decades later and suddenly start to ask, is this it? What if I don’t want to be online? How do I meet people in person again without it feeling awkward?
Over the next four weeks, I’m sharing how people are starting to think about technology’s role in their social life. I’m looking at the history of social clubs and their resurgence, first with the ultra-wealthy and then charting how it’s starting to trickle down.
What happens at these events? Who attends - and why? And perhaps most importantly, what does this say about this particular moment we live in? Who gets the opportunity to make and develop friendships if these events are increasingly behind a paywall?
I don’t have all the answers, but I look forward to starting to unravel the thread with you in May.
CURRENTLY LISTENING TO…
Together Apart - A Beatles Playlist.
My favorite Beatles songs that aren’t the true classics are their angsty-boy jams, which explains the trio of songs I wedged into the middle of the playlist. “What Goes On” is essentially a sequel to “Tell Me Why.” But to explain this playlist we first need to talk about my introduction to the Beatles, which began with Anthology Two.
The summer between seventh and eighth grade, I became obsessed with the Velvet Underground after my mother gave me the band’s biography. To this day, I’m not sure what made her pick up the biography, but this short sketch of Nico and Lou Reed and Andy Warhol became my introduction to sixties counterculture. At some point, the Beatles were mentioned. I was familiar with the Beatles - it’s almost a prerequisite living in the Western World - but I hadn’t properly listened to them.
That changed when I was rifling through the CD stacks at my local library, which let you check out music and other physical media, and I came across Anthology Two. I liked the cover, so I checked it out. I fell in love as soon as the opening lines of “Real Love” slowly filtered through the speakers in my room. I immediately made my way through the other Anthology sets during subsequent library trips.
Discovering the Beatles in the summer was well timed, since later that fall, the jukebox musical Across the Universe came out. Psychedelic musical influences were also starting to re-emerge with hits like MGMT’s “Time to Pretend” and Panic at the Disco’s dreamy Pretty Odd.
Years later, I would discover each of their solo acts, starting with Ringo. As a millennial, 500 Days of Summer was my teenage reference point for all things cool. Zooey Deschanel’s character, Summer, liked Ringo, therefore I liked Ringo.
But my favorite Beatle - because I know you were going to ask - is by far George, who I fell in love with the summer between my junior and senior years of college. What can I say? The fact that I love the shy, quiet Beatle should not come as a surprise at this point.
“Wah-Wah” became my theme song as I backed out of the driveway and rolled down the windows, coasting down the roads of Dallas’ “hill country.” I will forever remember how the transition from the hot day to the cool night hit my lungs as I sang, “I don’t need no wah-wah.”
As we race from spring to summer, one can only hope that I will find myself in the backseat of a car, windows rolled down, screaming about what I don’t need.
until next time,
xx kayla
the topic (and grossly misunderstood idea) of third spaces is such an interesting cultural phenomenon! can’t wait to hear more about this ethnographic exploration 😄