written by Rachel Green
The Rooftop, the Rosé, and the Realization
Okay. So let me start by saying: I was just trying to get some air. New York City in June? Not kind to a girl with natural volume. The humidity was real, my hair was expanding like a soufflé, and I desperately needed a breeze, a glass of rosé, and possibly a new life.
The Setup: One Wrong Turn in SoHo
Earlier that day, I had brunch with Monica (gluten-free pancakes that were, I’m sorry, not pancakes—more like ambitious cardboard). She headed back uptown, and I decided to wander SoHo just a little longer…because, you know, Zara was calling, and I was in no rush to go anywhere that didn’t serve Aperol.
I wandered, shopped, texted Joey that no, I would not bring him back "Italian shoes" just because I was on Spring Street, and then—this is where it gets weird—I followed a girl with great highlights. Don’t judge me. She had that effortless cool-girl look, and I needed to know where her hair was going.
She walked into this building on Crosby Street, and I figured it might be a salon (spoiler: it was not a salon). Naturally, I walked in behind her. Naturally.
The Elevator and My Innocent Assumptions
Big mistake. Huge. But also… not?
The elevator had one of those vintage gates and that faded charm that made me instantly think, “Oh, the lighting up here is going to make my cheekbones look editorial.” I mean, how could I not take it up?
She hit the button for the rooftop, turned to me and said, “You coming to the pre-party?” And I—being punctual, fabulous, and very uninvited—nodded like I belonged there.
Suddenly, I’m at a Party
Let me paint the picture: twinkle lights strung across the skyline, a DJ that looked like he moonlighted as a barista with big feelings, and trays—and trays—of cucumber gin cocktails and beet hummus that I definitely pretended to enjoy.
And I just blended in. My dress was Maje (thank you Saks sale), my heels screamed “I work in fashion,” and no one questioned a thing.
Three things I’ve learned after crash-entering a rooftop party in SoHo:
- If you hold a drink and nod thoughtfully, people assume you’re in marketing.
- There is always a guy named River, and he will try to explain crypto to you.
- Saying “Oh yeah, I know Zara—she’s killing it right now” is weirdly accepted as a networking comment.
The Moment I Knew
I was mid-conversation with a girl in linen overalls (respect) about oat milk versus goat milk when someone tapped me on the shoulder and said, “Wait… weren’t you at that influencers’ panel last week in Brooklyn?”
Um. Excuse me? No?
In that moment, I realized: I had officially been mistaken for someone relevant.
I sipped my drink, smiled, and delivered my best Rachel Green truth:
“Brooklyn is a blur. But I think I remember the oat milk.”
So, Did I Belong There?
No.
Did I stay until someone asked me to leave?
Also no.
Did I dance under the fairy lights to a remix of “Midnight City,” pretend I was someone who uses words like “immersive,” and exchange Instagram handles with a floral artist from Lisbon?
Absolutely yes.
And you know what? That’s New York. It's spontaneous, it’s chaotic, half the time you don’t know if you’re on a first date or a job interview, and the other half, you’re dancing on a rooftop pretending you’re the VP of brand strategy.
What I Wore (Because Someone Always Asks):
- Maje silk wrap dress (navy with tiny gold stars—very “I belong on a rooftop”)
- Céline mules I scored at The RealReal
- Statement earrings from a Nolita boutique I can no longer find (may have been a cannabis dispensary, unclear)
- Confidence I borrowed from Carrie Bradshaw
TL;DR (Too Long; Didn’t Rooftop?)
I went to SoHo in search of air and ended up at a strangers’ party, found a moment of accidental coolness, and fell in love with the city all over again.
Because sometimes, being in the wrong place at the right time turns out to be the perfect fit.
Don't worry—I left before they brought out the grilled oysters. Even I have limits.
xo,
Rachel
🗽🍸💁🏻♀️
If you’ve ever accidentally found yourself somewhere fabulous—or pretended to be someone fabulous while figuring it out—tell me in the comments. Bonus points if oysters were involved.
