Oh New York Times Style Section, how you love to make generalizing statements about this mysterious land called Williamsburg, a mystical place where millennials and yuppies hold hands and dance on sparkling rainbows made of trust funds and artisanal cheese, where mustachio-d baristas mate with mixologists in industrial condos purchased with their parent’s pocket change.
First you dress up a reporter (a self-described “middle-aged avowed Manhattanite”) in plaid and send him to purchase a $225 t-shirt and ride a fixed gear bicycle in search of the real Williamsburg experience (so real). Now you inform us that Grand Street is the Williamsburg equivalent of the Mason-Dixon line, cleaving the neighborhood into two: a sleek, moneyed “North Williamsburg” and a gritty, hyper-authentic “South Williamsburg.
Do you continue to publish these articles just to capitalize on the web traffic generated by people googling the word “Williamsburg”?
