At the moment it is considered the hippest part of the entire city, and I am aware of that because I know people, who know people, who know people, who are hip. This is actually known as the Meatpacking District, because for years it has been the city’s center of wholesale meats. Mind-bogglingly, the meatpacking business is still thriving, even though hipness is springing up all around it. The area is now filled with expensive hotels and boutiques in addition to less expensive lamb chops and veal shanks. Only in New York. In front of the Hamilton are velvet rope lines, and even though it is only three in the afternoon, they are preparing for the influx of people who will try to get into their rooftop bar tonight. I am told that people will regularly stand out here for hours in the hope, often vain, that they will get past the bouncers and gain admission. Like everything else about the hip world that I’ve never inhabited, it makes no sense to me.
