Naked and Afraid: Los Angeles Girl in New York City
Friday night. I’m sitting here writing this, naked but in my five dollar seamless undies from Target, drinking Trader Joes carrot juice on my fifth night as a New York resident. A fifth of the clothes I own in two large suitcases overflowing behind me. In a studio somewhere in West Village a good friend was nice enough to sublet to me; the perfect location for the New York fancy lady cliche of my dreams. And on my seventh breakdown of the week and the same piece of advice holding me together, I am starting to like it here. And yet, still miss LA. Which when I planned this move, of course I thought that I wouldn’t be thinking about LA at all.
I’ve had endless discussions with people about the LA vs NY topic and it seems there’s definitely more similarities than not with what most people say about both, but in order to gather my thoughts for no particular reason other than to stop the constant comparison in my head, I think I’ll go ahead and discuss.
Los Angeles. I’ve been told by many people that I seem to embody the idea of the LA lifestyle, which I can’t tell is offensive to me or not. But maybe what it is is that I love being naked? Could be. Maybe it’s the dreamy, impalpable nature of Los Angeles. LA has a way of making me feel like my life sort of slowly passes me by but I don’t seem to care that it is. That nothing is real anyway so each day blends into the next. I think the concept of LA is difficult to grasp and for someone who seems to be told often that I’m difficult to get ahold of, I may have more in common with Los Angeles than I think.
I love LA. Don’t get me wrong, no matter how much I seem to want to get away, she has been my closest friend through all of it. My demise in the same way, but I’ve learned everything I know from her. She is sweet and warm but can be so lonely. And when she is mean it lingers. I think I’ve become obsessed with her to the point where I can’t see myself not returning, but for now I want tangible.
I’ve been thinking about moving to NYC for quite some time. My first trip to New York was a few years ago after a pretty bad breakup, my first love you could say. A very toxic, passionate relationship. It was November and only a few weeks in advance did I decide to book a trip. I’d always wanted to so why not when I was at my worst? New York changed me. Coming here, seeing the city from the plane was one of the most beautiful things I’d ever seen, and is one of the moments that I can say truly took my breath away. This energy is unlike anything else, and it’s the energy of people doing.
Well that was four years ago. I stayed in LA for a few more years, and was able to come back due to another long distance relationship during covid, which I’m so grateful for because I think it made me realize that this change was on the horizon. I hate to place blame on things because ultimately I do believe that we are in charge of our destiny and with that, everything we do in our daily lives. However I do not feel that LA after a while was a place where I could continue growing, at least for right now. A dear friend of mine who I do tend to ask advice from often, (I ask for a lot of advice from a lotta people) gave me a great anecdote. One way of looking at life is that we have to ways of going about things to end up exactly where we’re meant to be: destruction and maintenance. If something is no longer serving you in your life, you’ve outgrown it, the universe will ultimately lead to the situation ending in destruction. Only in order to turn you onto the next path to where you’re supposed to be. The second, is that you feel that something is no longer working for you and you decide to take action, a bit more proactive, but I think comes with more resistance because you are choosing to break away from the comfort.
I will say that leading up to my move I felt things that I had only felt leaving my home in Colorado, but almost a bit worse. I created a space for myself in LA to decide who I want to be on my own, who Brittany really is and what makes her feel alive. Those things are more real to me than anything else and I feel very lucky, blessed, grateful - to have had the courage to create myself there coming from a very afraid and naive place at 19. I see myself driving up to LA three to four times a week from San Diego just to be there, then me finally living there, sharing a bed with a friend for a few months. Upgrading to a dining room bedroom, then finally my own room. Driving down PCH towards Malibu, all of the flowers. A nighttime that certainly doesn’t feel real whenever I think about it. There’s this quiet beauty about Los Angeles that creates a deep pit in my stomach whenever I think about it. It is both beautiful and so dark at the same time, and two things I would never want without the other.
I now see myself sitting on this couch, on my fifth night in the city waiting to see what space I create for myself here. I think she’s quite beautiful just the same.
"In Los Angeles, one laughs to survive, enjoys oneself not to enhance life but in order to live at all. That society is so vaporous and tenuous that the only alternative to a spiral of loneliness and fear is a self-contained, steady, pleasurably focused attitude. The L.A. cogito: I laugh, therefore I am. The laughter is ramified and refined. Only with time and effort does a visitor learn its language. It is the absolute form of civility in a civilization that enables nobody to mature beyond adolescence. It can be erotic and quite beautiful, when one hears its undertone of sadness. It can be disturbing, when one catches its overtone of hostility. It is the sound of grown-up children determined not to be afraid.” By Peter Schjeldahl from his essay in Ed Ruscha 1971-1975Cover image by Ed Ruscha