Oh. My. God. You guys.
So, today started out like any normal, slightly-overbooked, a-little-too-much-dry-shampoo kind of Tuesday in New York. You know, just me, a latte, and about seven blocks to power-walk in heels (Why? Because I still believe in being fabulous, even in pain). Anyway, let me just say: I was not prepared for the RAIN.
Like—not a cute drizzle where your hair just gets that effortless, French-girl wave. No. This was “Noah’s Ark but make it fashion.”
When in Doubt… Jazz Hands?
I ducked into the first awning I saw because frankly, my umbrella was 97% decorative at that point. I glance around, and what do I see? A tiny little doorway, no signage, just the faint sound of a saxophone floating through the cracks in the sidewalk. Intrigued? Me too.
I push open the door and it’s like stepping into another world.
Dim lights. Brick walls. Smoky velvet couches. A man in suspenders playing the upright bass like he was born with it. And this adorable couple slow dancing in the corner like we weren't all in the middle of Manhattan.
Yep. I had accidentally fallen into the cutest, moodiest, most romantic little jazz café in all of SoHo.
Here's What I Loved (and You Will Too):
- The Vibe: Think 1940s Paris meets Brooklyn on a rainy Tuesday. There’s candlelight, mismatched teacups, and a barista who looks like he once dated someone in Vampire Weekend.
- The Music: Live jazz. Not the cheesy, background kind. I'm talking rich, buttery notes that make you want to sip red wine and fall in love—with a stranger or just your own incredibly chic self.
- The Menu: Okay, not huge, but—hello—homemade almond croissants? Pair it with their lavender chai latte and you're basically one beret away from becoming a French film heroine.
- The People-Watching: One woman was journaling furiously while wearing a rain poncho made out of, I swear, recycled Vogue pages. Icon.
A New Yorker Moment™
I pulled out my very soggy planner and decided to just… not. I sat back. Ordered a glass of red (yes, at 2 PM—don't judge me), let my hair frizz with the kind of reckless abandon usually reserved for Italian foreign films, and just listened. And I realized something:
“Sometimes, the best New York moments are the ones you totally didn’t plan.”
Which, honestly, feels like a metaphor for life. And hair.
Just Sayin’
We’re all running around trying to get somewhere. A meeting. A dinner. A date with a guy who probably wears socks with sandals (just once, but it still happened). And in the middle of all that, sometimes the city slows you down in the most magical way. Like with jazz. And rain. And pastries that taste like they were made by someone’s Parisian grandmother.
So if you ever find yourself caught in a storm in the middle of SoHo—don’t reach for your Uber app so fast. Let the rain ruin your shoes. Let the city show you something you weren’t looking for.
And if you ever happen to find yourself in that little café, order the lavender chai and think of me.
Until next time, stay dry-ish, stay dramatic, and always, always look fabulous—even when soaked.
xo,
Rachel 💋
