From exploring Harlem and hunting for vintage fashion to museums, iconic sights and unforgettable meals, one L.A. family discovers New York City on foot.
I cracked a smile when I opened Facebook this summer and saw photos of one of L.A. Parent’s former cover models, 8-year-old Arya Gu, living it up during a mother-daughter trip to The Big Apple. What is it about New York City that obsesses Angeleno kids so?
Just a few days earlier, while stretched out on the living room sofa, my own L.A. kid suddenly blurted out: “I’m gonna use some of my summer camp money to take myself to New York!”
Sol, 19, has been raring to get back since his first visit in 2021. Still masking and distancing then, we explored a quieter metropolis, staying a couple of days with one of my writer friends who lives on the Upper East Side before checking into a Midtown hotel. We visited museums, bookstores, outdoor markets, Columbia University, old churches and got a taste of Harlem, a place Sol (then 14) fell in love with.
This time, he had his own plan:
- Immerse himself in Harlem without sticking out like a “super tourist.”
- Order a “real” chopped cheese sandwich from a bodega.
- Haunt some thrift shops for a couple of unique fall fashion pieces: “None of that trendy stuff.”
“If you go to New York,” I told him, “Dad and I are coming with you.”
There was only one week between Sol’s last day as a full-time (and stressed out) summer camp counselor and his return to college, so we had to act fast.
I put him in charge of scouting out food options and vintage thrift shops, while I tackled one of the biggest hurdles: airfare. “Don’t count out the Newark airport [EWR],” advised Margot Black, a New Yorker-turned-Angeleno and longtime travel writer. “It’s often cheaper to fly in there, and you can take the AirTrain into the city.”
Indeed, I saved a few hundred dollars on airfare, so the next task was to settle where we would stay on the island for four days. We knew just what part of Manhattan we wanted: Harlem.
“Geographically, Harlem has the best location on the island of Manhattan,” Theda Palmer Saxton, Ph.D., writes in her book, “Heirs to Dirty Linen and Harlem Ghosts.” “It is in the center of New York City, all trains connect uptown, it still has hills and valleys, and people of every ethnic group imaginable either work or live in the area.”
As we flew east, I pulled out my tattered copy of “Go Tell It on the Mountain” by the great Harlem-born-and-raised author James Baldwin. The novel was my first introduction to this place of near-mythic status. I read it as a college freshman, then immersed in the literary landscape that preceded Baldwin: the writers, artists and musicians of the Harlem Renaissance.
As I read, Sol, a food, hip-hop and fashion enthusiast, scrolled TikTok for recommendations. Meanwhile, Marcus, whose itinerary included gorging on New York pizza, studying skyscraper architecture and people-watching, closed his eyes for a nap.
Absolutely. New York City offers a mix of food, fashion, music, art, museums, neighborhoods and iconic sights, with plenty of opportunities to explore independently while still spending time together as a family.
Finding Our Harlem
Once we landed in Newark, we took the easy way out and ordered a rideshare instead of puzzling out the route from the AirTrain to Penn Station to a subway to Harlem. Because I had a Lyft discount, the difference in cost was minimal; we rolled up to our hotel within an hour.
I had dreamed of staying in a brownstone, but my search for Airbnb options was not early enough. Our last-minute visit fell during Harlem Week, a 50-year-old festival celebrating local culture, history, family, music and community, so pickings were slim. I switched to a hotel search, narrowing our choices to the Renaissance New York Harlem Hotel, which sits above the historic 1917 Victoria Theater on 125th Street in historic “Opera Row”; Radio Hotel, a bold, colorful and vibrant hotel located in nearby Washington Heights; and The George Manhattan, part of the Tapestry Collection by Hilton.
Located near the corner of 126th Street and Morningside Avenue, The George took the crown. It is named in honor of legendary Harlem dancer George “Shorty George” Snowden and King George II, who chartered nearby Columbia University in 1754. The George has a soft contemporary feel, with warm earth and jewel tones and local artwork. The rooms are (by New York standards) quite spacious, with floor-to-ceiling windows, a workspace and premium linens.
After we freshened up, we checked out the hotel’s lounge spaces, including a generous courtyard, a private garden retreat that makes you forget the hotel stands in the middle of an urban block populated by apartments, churches, braiding salons and other businesses.
Infused with a second wind, we rushed out to make the most of it — and the lingering daylight.
On our way to the hotel, Sol had pointed excitedly at a spot he’d already pinged for his first meal: El Nuevo Tina Restaurant. “I’ve been wanting to try mofongo for so long,” he said, showing me a photo on his phone of a pile of food shaped like a cone.
“Yum! What all is in it?” I asked.
“There’s fried plantain that’s smashed up with all kinds of stuff, like chicken or pork and I don’t know what else,” he said. I could almost see his mouth watering.
The restaurant was a short walk from our hotel, but a pizza spot on the way yanked Marcus in like a magnet. Clad in his L.A. cap, he stood at a counter-height table and took the bite he most wanted out of New York. Reluctantly, he offered Sol and me a taste of his second slice. Although we were trying to “save our bellies” for Tina’s, one pizza pinch turned into, well, more.
Walking into El Nuevo Tina felt like dropping in on a family gathering. Dominican music and paintings lit up the space, reminding me of a trip I’d just taken to the Dominican Republic. But my time in Punta Cana had not blessed me with the taste of mofongo, a chewy, savory, earthy deliciousness I thanked my food-loving, social-media-tracking, culture-loving teen for introducing me to.
With our satiation on par with the clouds, we left El Nuevo Tina and headed for the famous Apollo Theater. On the way, I looked up and saw a renowned artist from home: the Pasadena born-and-raised science-fiction novelist Octavia Butler. I pointed her out to the guys, an opportunity we likely would not have had if we had been, per usual, in a car.
While the Apollo’s iconic main stage is under restoration, we were able to access its new, expanded facilities by going through the Renaissance Harlem Hotel. Apollo staff invited Sol to join a teen party in a smaller theater. Parents were not allowed, so Marcus and I milled about with other waiting parents, gazing at photographs of musical legends.
So very much like Harlem, I thought, welcoming us into its ever-pulsating energy, where young, middle-aged and old alike have something to do, somewhere to go. After Sol reemerged, we floated up to The Victoria restaurant on the fifth floor, where I could not wait to gaze at the lit-up staircase bearing the first names of Duke Ellington, Louis Armstrong, Billie Holiday and other jazz and blues greats.
As night began to fall, the spirit of creativity followed us as we found our way to Studio Museum in Harlem, where an art night party was brewing. In addition to the art on its six floors, the museum has built substantial programming around children, teens, families and Black art, including storytelling, drop-in artmaking, interactive family tours and exhibits featuring art by youth.
After the museum, Marcus and I walked back to The George’s courtyard for some quiet moments alone. Sol, who’d apparently worked up another appetite while digesting all that art, made a detour to a bodega to order his first chopped cheese sandwich in New York. A few days earlier in L.A., he’d ordered one from a restaurant in Downtown L.A. just so he “could compare it to the real thing.”
When Shopping Plans Fall Apart
You’ve probably already guessed it, but I was a bit slow: Sol wasn’t necessarily hungry for the latest fashion drops; he was just hungry, period.
As the hours of our trip ticked by, the shopping part of our script completely flipped, but my determination to materialize it led to a tense mother-son breakdown on 125th Street one day. I noticed Sol wasn’t stopping at any of the streetwear shops we passed, shops whose windows showcased archival jeans, bold, graphic sweatshirts and caps that I imagined he’d salivate over. I pushed him to go with me inside MKUU General Store, but while he thought the clothing “was fire,” he didn’t buy a single stitch.
“What’s going on?” I asked him when we were back on the sidewalk.
“Nothing,” he said. “I know what I want when I see it.”
“But you’re not even really looking.”
“You can’t force me to buy anything. You don’t know what I want.”
I bit my tongue before “Do you?” slipped out.
The next morning, I tried again. Surely the Brooklyn Flea under the Brooklyn Bridge would turn up a one-of-a-kind vintage jacket or funky pair of jeans! We took a subway to the Dumbo neighborhood, meeting up with one of my former high school journalism and English literature students, Khadijah, now a Brooklyn resident, educator and owner of Cozy Femme, where she sells her handmade crochet fashions and accessories.
She gasped as Sol stood to greet her, marveling over how tall this “baby” she and my other students used to fawn over when his babysitter brought him to my classroom after school. “I remember being shocked over how much slobber there was. So much slobber,” Khadijah said.
I looked at my student, who is now the age I was when I was teaching her and raising my new baby, and felt a great deal of awe as well.
Sitting on a patio overlooking the Brooklyn Bridge and Manhattan skyline, we ate breakfast from Clinton St. Baking Company at Time Out Market, a hall featuring 21 eateries and three bars. Khadijah told Sol that the SoHo neighborhood, packed with trendy storefronts and thrift shops, was his best bet for shopping. Glancing at his tiny nod and flash of a smile, I could tell we would not be squeezing in a dash to SoHo.
After spending about an hour browsing the eclectic curations — old-school cameras, worn leather jackets, vintage sportswear — at the flea market, I was the only one who came away with anything: a beautiful swath of handwoven Dogon indigo cloth from Lamine Berete, who sells vintage fabrics and artifacts from all over Africa.
Even so, Sol looked satisfied. His hands weren’t full, but his eyes sparkled as he looked at artwork bearing the image of Tupac Shakur and took in the sheer volume of people roaming throughout the market.
‘Super’ Tourists and Local Friends
I wasn’t insufferable the whole trip. When I backed off the shopping idea, we dug in to cherish each moment that Harlem, Midtown and Downtown Manhattan offered us. I downloaded New York CityPASS to help make taking in a few iconic experiences easier. Buying a CityPASS lets you save up to 51% on five attractions. The app is a breeze to use. Once you make your attraction choices, the app stores your tickets and sends them to your email address.
On our “super touristy” day, we ate bagels and lox at Midtown’s Carnegie Diner & Café before ascending to the 86th-floor observation deck of the Empire State Building. Despite the number of people on the deck, there was something meditative about standing that far above ground, gazing at the other skyscrapers from on high, watching a stream of yellow taxis seem to move in slow motion, tiny as dots.
Back on the ground, we met up with friends — Patrick and Daphne — I’ve known for nearly 30 years. They were in New York (Daphne’s hometown) from Paris and, unbeknownst to us, had been at Studio Museum around the same time we were the night before. We gathered with them, their teen, Gemma, and another couple — Lisa and Everick — who have lived in New York for years and are originally from Los Angeles. They attended the same high school, Fairfax, at the same time my husband did. As they swapped stories, the name of a beloved teacher, Ms. Head, popped up.
“I had Ms. Head, too!” my husband said.
Still in touch with her 40 years after he graduated, Everick called the retired teacher and put her on the phone with Marcus. I watched his face light up at the sound of her voice.
“No way!” we all kept saying as we walked to Dao Sum & Chinese Cuisine, where the soup and dumplings are light and fresh and a wooden round table tucked into a corner was perfect for catching up with old friends and getting to know the new.
I flashed our CityPASS QR codes when we sauntered over to Museum Mile to visit the Guggenheim, and again when we took an evening Circle Line cruise to see Lady Liberty up close and watch the majestic Manhattan skyline light up like a star-studded sky. New York also showered us with our first rain of the summer, and I stood on the deck of the boat and laughed in gratitude.
In between the Guggenheim and the city cruise, my Bronxite friend, Melissa, took us on her version of a Central Park tour. A beautiful novelist and professor, she shared childhood stories, pointed out the Shakespeare in the Park stage, sculptures, tango dancers and rollerbladers.
She guided me down to the Bethesda Arcade, where spectacular Minton encaustic tiles make up the ceiling. We took selfies in front of one of the dramatically painted trompe-l’oeil panels as an angelic sound enveloped us: a woman singing “Ave Maria.”
A City That Sings
Music also wove its way through our final night in New York. I lucked up on finding Bill’s Place, a speakeasy-style jazz club that is about a 20-minute walk from The George Manhattan. Owned by saxophonist Bill Saxton and his wife Theda Palmer Saxton, Ph.D., Bill’s Place is tucked into the basement of a brownstone painted ruby red. My jaw dropped when I saw a plaque hanging from the brick: My favorite singer in the whole world, Billie Holiday, was “discovered” here in 1933. It dropped again when I saw how close our seats were to the small stage: near enough to touch. Yet nothing beats good music’s ability to touch something intangible inside you. The band moved us in and out of time and place with renditions of jazz classics like “April in Paris,” as well as Saxton’s original music.
Our last day started with I Like It Black’s coffee and croissants, which we took with us on a “literary walk” through Harlem, passing by the poet Langston Hughes’ old brownstone (currently under restoration), through Marcus Garvey Park to the block where novelist Louise Meriwether grew up and then back around to the library where Baldwin spent many hours of his childhood, now transformed into the Schomburg Center for Research in Black Culture. Hughes’ ashes are buried in a book-like vessel beneath an art installation, “Rivers,” which pays tribute to him and the center’s namesake, Arturo Schomburg.
I was honored to learn that “We Are Bridges,” my book about my ancestors and my son, lives among the library’s collection of 11 million items illuminating the richness of Black history, arts and culture.
We rounded out our last hours sharing a rich and satisfying spread of soul food with a friend who splits her time between her house in Palos Verdes and her condo on the Upper East Side. When Tanya walked through the doors of Red Rooster Harlem, our squeals reached out to hug each other before our arms could catch up. She is the friend that Sol and I stayed with while visiting New York in 2021. She squealed and hugged him, too, marveling over how much he’s grown.
Tanya and the guys tore into their plates of hot honey yardbird chicken and waffles, but at my first spoonful of chef Marcus Samuelsson’s Gullah-inspired stew, I was taken back to my long-ago visit to the Gullah Geechee Islands. Okra stewed in picante tomato sauce, deepened by hickory-smoked turkey and crispy shallots. As divine as it was, I was as sad to consume the last of it as my family and I were to say goodbye to Harlem.
What Sol Found in New York
Back on campus for a couple weeks now, Sol sent me a text that made me chuckle: “Just to let you know, I might name my first son Harlem.”
When we spoke over the phone later, I asked him what he thinks it is about New York City that captures Angeleno kids, even those who love L.A. as much as he does. “New York is like a world, a vast world,” he said. “I can see why there’re so many creative people who come out of there, who go there. And I remember how when I was a kid, I used to watch “Sesame Street” and so many movies that put these images of New York in your head. That’s why that last day of us just walking around Harlem, passing the brownstones and drinking our coffee was maybe my favorite part.
“People say New York is a concrete jungle, but that just makes the trees pop out more,” he continued. “The way the green you do see and the brownstone buildings contrast with each other — that’s beautiful.”
“What about your initial plan to find some cool clothes?” I asked.
“I don’t regret it,” he said. “That’s just how selective I am when shopping; it’s hit or miss. I was very satisfied with the time we had. Listening to people talking, how they talk. The energy of the people on 125th Street in Harlem … I’ve never experienced anything like that.”
The sidewalks, the subways, the buildings… For Sol, all of Manhattan is a runway to be observed and appreciated — a style and sound that reverberated long after he returned to his corner of the world, inspiring him to take more fashion risks, to spend more time walking and exploring — and even to try his hand at making his own chopped cheese sandwich.
Cassandra Lane is Editor-in-Chief of L.A. Parent and author of We Are Bridges.
Fashion Shopping for Kids and Teens in New York City
Here are some Manhattan and Brooklyn spots, as well as independent, non-chain Harlem stores that highlight cultural roots, archival vintage, custom tailoring and unique streetwear.
| Store Name | Primary Age Focus | Type of Store | Neighborhood Location |
| MKUU General Store | Teens (13–19) & adults | Black-owned cultured streetwear | Harlem (Manhattan) |
| Jimmy Jazz | Teens (13–19) & adults | Streetwear, heritage sportswear, sneakers | Harlem (Manhattan) |
| Trintage | Teens (13–19) & adults | Independent pre-loved & ’90s vintage | Harlem (Manhattan) |
| Harlem Underground | Teens (13–19) & adults | Independent one-of-a-kind graphic merch | Harlem (Manhattan) |
| Kith | Teens (13–19) & adults | Premium streetwear & sneakers | NoHo (Manhattan) & Wburg (Brooklyn) |
| L Train Vintage | Teens (13–19) & adults | Budget vintage & outerwear | Williamsburg & Park Slope (Brooklyn) |
| Lester’s Official | Kids & tweens (8–14) | Multi-brand contemporary apparel | Upper East Side (Manhattan) |
| Edikted Official | Tweens & teens (12–19) | Fast-trend Y2K styles | SoHo (Manhattan) |
| Garage Clothing | Tweens & teens (12–19) | Everyday denim & loungewear | SoHo (Manhattan) |
| Little Moony Boutique | Young kids (0–8) | Independent artisan kids boutique | Nolita (Manhattan) |
| My Little Sunshine | Young Kids (0–10) | Designer children’s clothing & toys | Tribeca (Manhattan) & Park Slope (Brooklyn) |
