Barred: Seamstress


When: Roughly 8pm, Monday

I in no way think of Seamstress as a special occasion bar. It just happens that it was the best choice close to Tanoshi open on Christmas (where I ended up making out with an adult goth who thought I was a millennial because I up talk when everyone knows millennials vocal fry) and it now seemed liked a post-Tanoshi tradition, which is where I went for my birthday.

I was irrationally excited to see a butterfly pea flower cocktail, All the Way (vodka, butterfly pea flower, cherry, soda, lime, Peychauds) which seemed like a 4th of July holdover, red, white, and blue.

I was irrationally unexcited to hear the two women two years from 30 sitting next to me talk out loud (though neither particularly frying or upping their vocals). Apparently, they have a boring friend who’s a teacher in Saratoga Springs who wants to be an executive assistant but still has an AOL email (way boomer, no?) and texts photos of other friends’ babies. “It must be a stress on her to be independent,” said one who was also hoping she would be pregnant before another friend’s bachelorette party.  

Was I carded: Not even close.

Age appropriate: Definitely. The crowd, particularly dining, is very mixed. The Upper East Side is fascinating that way. I was convinced a few years ago that that’s where all the great guys were hiding out like a bizarro Brooklyn, though I never really pursued that angle.

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