According to StatCounter, someone used this pertinent search string to find their way to this very blog. Golly, I hope after reading, the guy was convinced!

Mostly I roll my eyes at people who suss out neighborhoods based solely on “cool” rather than ready availability of grocery stores, laundries, subway stops and friendly people. (I guess “cool” is shorthand for “readily available hot chicks.” Ho hum.) But last weekend I couldn’t help thinking the Ditmars area has gotten pretty cool…no thanks to me.

I stopped in at the new Oleput Lollipop cafe, brought to us by the geniuses who own the Sparrow. It’s not like you’d know the name, though–there’s no actual sign on the brown awning at the corner of Ditmars and super-sneaky 32nd Street. They’ve managed to make the space–which used to be a gift shop that sold stuff like Hello Kitty backpacks and those fake “flame” lamps–look actually retro, and not just “retro” in a TGIFriday’s kind of way. I know for a fact these guys are savvy scavengers–the light fixtures at the Sparrow were fished out of the Dumpster in front of the Crystal Palace on Broadway. All their work shows, in stuff like the great wood-inlay counter and their nice old soda fridge. My limeade was super-delicious, I picked up a bottle of blood-orange bitters, and they’re serving Mary’s Dairy ice cream. And there are actually stylish people sitting around in there! Where did they come form?

And then I went to both the adorable Mimi’s Closet, just up the way on Ditmars, where she’s just started having a sale. And after buying an adorable dress that the adorable Mimi had made herself, I went down to Kristee’s, on 23rd Ave, where I was astounded to see designer denim and drapey knit jersey in abundance. There is some heavy-duty cognitive dissonance when you look down the block and see the Greek guys hanging at 26 Corner. Kristee pointed out the wall of clippings for fall clothes she’s ordering, and said I should put in requests for my size if I was interested–she doesn’t order a lot of sizes, she says, because Astoria is small, and she doesn’t want us to all wind up wearing the same stuff. Is this delusion or complete megalomania on her part?

I don’t know, but I bit. I always suspected this was how people in Boutique HQs like Nolita and Carroll Gardens lived, but I have never wallowed in this sort of treatment myself. I felt the same way I felt when I was in Fez and met the French travel writer who offered to call ahead and arrange a place for me to stay in Marrakech–“Do you want a pool?” the guy asked as he was making phone calls. It had really never even occurred to me to choose lodging based on amenities, rather than price. But it felt dangerously good, and I could also see how you can get very into shopping if you’ve got someone looking out for your personal interests in such a way. So on Kristee’s recommendation, I bought my first pair of shorts in years–and that’s counting those ones I got at Old Navy for $5, and never wear outside the house.

Kristee asked me where I lived, and I told her my prime 30th Ave location–incidentally, very close to groceries and the subway. “Oh, down there,” she said. Then she laughed, sort of apologetically, and said she lived down there too, but all her friends and the shop were “up here,” at Ditmars, which really does seem to be the place to be.

And all this started happening immediately after I, the anti-cool killjoy, moved away about two years ago.

Coincidence? Probably not.