i heart the new york city tourist shops

Illustration by Honey Simatupang

You, New York City souvenir shop, stay in the corners of my brain and the edges of my heart even if I have not seen you in a year now. The white "I 'Heart' New York" shirts that lay behind your greasy windows remind me of the time I tripped on the sidewalk of 42nd and 8th. The white air forces on my feet skittered under the winter sun as my clunky bookbag flew over my head, and looseleaf from my binder floated across the concrete. Passing strangers soon stepped on the lined paper cluttered with broken stories and doodles. Their shoe prints cried, "we don't care." No one noticed that I fell. In a city of 8 million, my fall was just another unfortunate accident, a stupid human mistake. I ridiculed myself for tripping, cursed my air forces for their fake support, and loathed the city of 8 million people where no one noticed that I fell. But you did. I swear as I stood up from the cracked ground, I saw a navy blue shirt printed with that ugly New York license plate shift a little bit. Were you winking to me? I think you were because perhaps you wanted to let me know, in a land of 8 million people, the thing that might provide the most solace is not a person. It is a store. 

Because you, New York City souvenir shop, have hundreds walk into you every single day, like blonde families from Norway or a couple from Chilé, and offer them a taste of this beautifully bitter city. Tourists buy taxi cab key chains and golden teddy bears dressed as the Statue of Liberty; they don't understand that this metropolis is so much more than those kitschy collectibles. Hell, most New Yorkers have never even been to the Statue of Liberty, roamed the Ellis Island halls. But not everyone has the privilege — or rather the birthright, to grow up in boroughs where area codes 718, 347, 212, or 929 can flash across your telephone screen. The city is packed to the brim with lives, each reeking of their tragedies and comedies. We need no new residents, and in all actuality, not everyone wants to live here. That's the fantastic thing about the world. We can each find somewhere to call home in entirely different places. 

Within your walls covered in "New Yorker" slogans, you offer travellers from all around the world a piece of New York to bring home. Sightseers certainly won't get to experience it all in their two-week stays. But when they stuff that Statue of Liberty teddy bear into their carry-on, clip the taxi-cab keychain onto their bookbags, and add a Brooklyn Bridge magnet onto their fridges back at home, the spirit of the Big Apple is there. Tourists can look at these items and remember the startlingly bizarre and zesty experiences this city has to offer. Even if New York isn't for them and they never visit again, these visitors will always remember the feeling of standing inside a place where every single wandering soul can breathe. 

I love you, New York City souvenir shop, for trying to capture the essence of a land so grand so everyone can have a slice. I know there haven't been any new visitors in a while, and Times Square feels a little less magical, but the lust for this east coast state will never die. 

To the gift shops worldwide, feeling a little more empty now, know that you are breeding a place for love, hope, and memories forevermore. I can’t wait to roam your aisles and add touristy pins onto my mini backpack again.