“Want to build a snowman?” asks a voice. Ananya Birla and I are having our own
Frozen moment in downtown Manhattan. A winter storm has just passed and the roads are lined with snow. As the 26-year-old navigates a slushy sidewalk, her honey-blond waves fly against the icy wind.
We are in the Lower East Side, walking past its typical contradictions: the smell of freshly baked cookies followed by the stench of overflowing trash cans, chic boutiques selling ceramics and CBD oils beside a boarded-up business that didn’t make it through the pandemic. But there’s still a buzz to the city. It’s 4pm on a Thursday and everyone seems to have somewhere to be, us included. We are looking for a spot to build a snowman.