How Bizarre, How Bazaar

Do you guys remember that song from 1995?!

Brother Pele’s in the back, sweet Zina’s in the front 
Cruisin’ down the freeway in the hot, hot sun 
Suddenly red-blue lights flash us from behind 
Loud voice booming, “Please step out onto the line” 
Pele preaches words of comfort, Zina just hides her eyes 
Policeman taps his shades, “Is that a Chevy ’69?” 
How bizarre, How bizarre…

This past weekend, my friend and I hit up the Brooklyn Night Bazaar: an indoor festival of local food, drinks, music, shopping and art. It basically has everything you could ever need in a weekend wrapped up into a mere few hours. It’s located in the some sketchy warehouse in what felt like the middle of rural(?) Williamsburg, so if you go, be prepared for a small hike to/from the train. I wasn’t and whined about getting slaughtered in a storage unit the entire way there and back. It’s a miracle I have friends.

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I didn’t get as many pictures as I wanted, due to A) my phone being a diva B) my camera still has not arrived and C) the lighting was weird. But it’s a designed to be a hip, fun place (and there was like, a concert happening), so I’ll let the lighting slide.

There’s a number of great food options to choose from (i.e. Oaxaca Taqueria, Morris Grilled Cheese, Briskettown). My friend and I both ordered from The Lobster Joint and thoroughly enjoyed our meals. You have to be 21+ to enter, so there are a few bars throughout the venue from which you can order from a list of beers (maybe/probably wines too?),walk around and shop while sipping on your beverage of choice.

The booths snake up and down the middle of the venue space, and there’s everything from artwork to jewelry to clothing. A few vendors that my friend and I took a liking to were RHLS for their crazy, hip sweatshirts, Milly & Earl for their adorable, vintage trinkets, and Adopt a Robot for obvious reasons. (Spoiler alert: friends, you’re all getting robots for Christmas). Also, BlissfulCase had an amazing vintage TV iPhone cover that I can’t stop thinking about. Although I could have spent a lot more money, my only purchase of the evening was on a Leroy’s Place Ziggy Stardust pendant and thick gold chain. Because this girl is hoping for some cha-cha-cha-changes in the near future. Ugh, I know, that was bad.

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All in all, we deemed the trek out to Brooklyn well worth it. The Brooklyn Night Bazaar takes place every Friday and Saturday night from 6pm to midnight. Check out their website for more information!

Ooh baby, Ooh, baby
It’s making me crazy, It’s making me crazy
Everytime I look around,  Everytime I look around
It’s in my face…

You’ll have that in your head for the rest of the day now; you’re welcome. If I have to suffer from the bad 90’s pop music, I’m brining you all down with me.

Museum of the Moving Image Visit

Happy Monday!

This past week I made the trek out to Astoria to visit the Museum of the Moving Image. I got so caught up in the amazing Yelp reviews, I forgot that I’m not really too much of a movie buff [read: I don’t know the difference between Clint Eastwood and Sean Connery]. Thankfully, I was accompanied by the textbook definition of a media connoisseur, so luckily he was able to break down for me everything from details of film projector extinction to why I need to add Being John Malkovich to my ever-growing “Stuff I need to watch” list.

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Some of my favorite parts of the museum were seeing some of the costumes used in movies/television (pictured above is an actual Cosby sweater), this really sick thing called a strobeatrope which I can’t even accurately explain, and the text message translating game by the museum’s entry. Overall, the museum was a pretty good experience, and on Fridays after 4pm it’s donation-based (i.e. free, unless you get the mean man working the desk who basically threatens to melon-ball out your eyeballs if you don’t donate). I would especially recommend it for normal people who have an average or beyond knowledge of movies/the film industry, unlike myself. I guess I just spend my spare time surfing Buzzfeed and watching reruns of The O.C.? My poor underdeveloped brain cells.