The Cozy Revolution: How New York’s Spaces are Redefining Meaningful Connections
My childhood view on space
Looking back, my family and I were always on the move, living in different kinds of homes such as apartments, townhouses, and houses of all shapes and sizes. I gathered different aspects of each place we lived in to form a mental picture of my perfect home.
As a child, I dreamed of living in a large house complete with stunning French doors, a walk-in closet, and a balcony that offered a breathtaking view. While sipping on my favorite ice coffee, which I often sneaked two cups for myself and my sister, I would visualize this dream home. At that time, I hoped that drinking this forbidden ‘adult-only’ drink would speed up my growth so that we could have our dream home sooner.
Some thoughts I had about space as I waited for the subway
As I wander through the streets of New York, I can’t help but notice what I call the “olive oil and water effect.” The closer we get to someone, the more our subconscious nudges us to create space, making room for others knowing that we’re all in a hurry.
Our bodies seem to move in sync, without the need for words. We instinctively lean in one direction or the other, allowing someone to pass on the left or right. Sometimes, a simple wave or smile is all it takes to express gratitude or let others know that we want to pass by.
However, in the subway, it’s a different story. We’re often crammed together, with arms brushing against each other, shoes touching, and eyes diverting when we glance up to check the next stop.
Despite being so close to one another, we remain distant, hesitant to close the gap between us. We share an intimate space with strangers who could be our neighbor, coworker, or even a future friend. It’s almost as if we fear that if we try to bridge the gap, it will cause an uproar amongst us.
It’s because of this distance that I choose to admire others silently in my mind. I’ll never know where that girl on Hewes St. got her shoes or where she was heading in them. It will remain a mystery, forever.
Bigger the space, doesn’t mean it’s better
In the United States, there’s a common belief that bigger always equals better. We’ve been conditioned to think that the larger the home, fridge, yard, car, or thing, the more desirable it is.
However, here in New York, with a population of over 20 million people and a population density of 421 people per square mile over an area of 47,126 square miles, it’s easy to see that large spaces are a luxury that few can afford. Although New York City is the largest city in the US, having a bigger space doesn’t necessarily equate to a better quality of life, which has shattered my childhood view of what constitutes a great living space.
In fact, my favorite moments in the city have been spent in the coziest of spaces. Over the past year of living in New York, I’ve been trying to capture the essence of those feelings and how much I’ve come to appreciate them.
Here are just a few of the emotions that I’ve experienced.
Discovering New York’s window stories in my Brooklyn room
Walking down the streets of New York City, it’s hard not to notice the brownstone apartments lining the blocks. With the fast-paced nature of the city, it’s easy to accidentally glance through an apartment window and catch a glimpse of someone’s life. As you stroll past, you might see a family gathered around the dinner table, a person rushing to change after a shower in their towel, or a curious dog peeking down at you from the window.
As a newcomer to the city, moving into my first apartment in Brooklyn was a swirl of emotions. I couldn’t help but wonder what people passing by my window might see or think. Would they catch a glimpse of me dancing in my pajamas to my favorite song, or cooking a meal for the first time in my new apartment? Would they see the joy on my face as I settled in, or the tears shed during a difficult moment?
Being a part of a city that never sleeps, there are endless stories being told, all around us. Each person has their own unique experiences, their own story to tell. Though the city may seem chaotic from the outside, on the inside, it’s a beautiful mosaic of different cultures, perspectives, and lives intersecting in unexpected ways. We’re more similar than we think.
Dinner parties on our beds
Sharing a home-cooked meal and wine at a friend’s apartment is an experience that feels different in this city. I’m seated on the edge of my friend’s bed, and they’re seated at their desk chair. I take in the intricate details of their personal space, from the artwork hung on the walls to the aroma of the candles they light. It’s fascinating to see how much of their personality is reflected in their living space.
Our places in New York are tight. Yet, we do what we can to make our place feel like home. We gather in a place that reflects who we are, and we’re excited to bring others into this little home of ours we built. This experience is intimate, vulnerable really, and has allowed me to form deeper connections with the friendships I formed here.
I’ve experienced the most touching dinner parties, holiday gift exchanges, game nights, book clubs, PowerPoint parties, and so many more gatherings in these spaces.
As we sit side by side, shoulders touching — we delve into conversations that allow us to learn more about each other. We delve into our upbringings, dreams, fears, and passions, sharing our experiences and discovering new facets of each other. We form new memories in a version of ourselves that we’re also still getting to know ourselves.
It tells me so much about them. A part of them I could’ve only guessed could be true, but now truly get to know.
Now one full year in New York I still feel a sense of awe
There’s this feeling I can’t seem to shake off now living in New York for a full year. It’s the feeling I have every time when I’m taking the subway to a location I haven’t been to before. There’s this anticipation of not knowing what will appear as you walk up the stairs of the station and taking in everything as you make it to the top.
There are the many sounds, smells, sights, and moving things in front of you — it’s overwhelming but oddly enough, also comforting knowing we’re not alone. Right?
I find myself taking mental pictures of little moments I've experienced coming out of the subway in LES. A mom and daughter running with their to-go order in their hand trying to catch the subway before it leaves. An Asian grandma wearing a ‘NYC’ baseball cap pushing their groceries slowly past a group of teens on skateboards. A fashionable couple dressed similarly in thrifted fits swirling their iced coffees.
LES is Lower East Side, but also my initials Leah Elizabeth Shin. It’s been nice to share this fun fact, because LES has been a place I've enjoyed taking in as I step outside the station and now know what walking the scenic route means.
It’s a small piece of the city that I'm getting to know and discovering a new thing to love every time I'm there.
Experimenting with ‘Exchanges’ in New York
The underlying piece that made me feel so drawn to cozy moments in New York are the people that make it a reality. While the spaces we’re in naturally makes it easier for us to connect, it’s the little moments and interactions I had with others that really solidified how I felt when I returned home.
It’s the concept we all come to terms with as young adults, you can be with someone and still feel like you’re alone. It’s not just about the quantity of time you spend with someone, but the quality of the time spent.
I started to ask myself, three questions:
- Is there a way we can create spaces that feel cozy?
- Is there a way we can create a community that invokes a feeling of closeness?
- Is there a way we can foster meaningful conversations and relationships in light touch ways?
I decided to challenge myself and ask friends if they wanted to co-host a series of exchanges this summer to see if we can find answers to the questions above.
We started with a flower exchange in Prospect Park, Brooklyn last month. We had thirty of our friends join us with their flower bouquets, snacks, and at the end of the picnic we had guests swap flowers with a random person by drawing their name out of a bag.
I captured some video clips and talk through the process on how it worked here:
Through this exchange, it felt one step closer to a space we could call ours. Like we’re claiming a small part of the city, and making it feel like we belong.
I’ve seen other communities in New York invoke a similar feeling in cozy spaces or meet-ups:
- NYC Community Photowalk (@nycphotostroll): Photo walks and events for the NYC photography community since 2022. All cameras, skill levels, and good people welcome.
- Side Projkt.Club (@sideprojkt.club): A monthly gathering of creatives sharing + supporting each other’s personal artistic pursuits! — Be fearlessly imperfect.
- Liz Chick (@bylizchick): Liz Chick is Brooklyn based artist & creative event host obsessed with bringing people together over craft & food. She collaborates with artists, chefs, and makers to bring one-of-a-kind experiences into her beautiful Clinton Hill Studio.
- Apt. 2 Bread (@apt2bread): Tiny bread bakery in Brooklyn brownstone
Frequent projects, occasional sales. - (@thirstygallerina): Demystifying the art world by revealing New York’s best kept secret on galleries to check-out.
- Apartment 7x (@apartment7x): A home to foster creative gatherings while showcasing Eny Lee Parker’s collection of furniture and lighting, along with our favorite artists & designers’ works, located in Clinton Hill, Brooklyn.
We’re hosting a wine exchange on a roof top in East Village next.
Maybe we’ll do a mug exchange or book exchange or candle exchange or coffee exchange after that. Who knows what exactly we’ll do, but I know we’re having fun trying to redefine what a meaningful connection can mean with our friend group here in the city.
No matter how much space I thought you’d need to do this initially in the past. It’s very much possible that a cozier space means a cozier connection.
