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Culture on the Cheap
Fedders Friday: A Very Special Gift
I recently received an email from Ann Kansfield of the Greenpoint Reformed Church. It read as follows:
I have an awesome gift for you that I found this morning. Are you around today that I might be able to get it to you?
Unfortunately I was sick and told her to wait. Then she emailed me the following irresistible teaser:
No worries – take your time and feel better. To help you along in your healing process, or at least make you smile… can I tell you what I found for you? — it’s a tin Fedders sign. You can hang it on your wall and feel all cool and kitsch. If you don’t like it, you won’t hurt my feelings.
Needless to say I headed down there the next day without delay. FEVER be damned!
She even left it out front for me.
I’ve had this beauty in my apartment for a couple days now. It has become my muse, so to speak. Yesterday I had an epiphany. A vision of Fedderism so glorious I will not divulge it at this time. It will take some time and a lot of planning. The latter of which I am not especially adept at. But take my word for it: when it comes to pass it will be good.
In the meantime this select item will hang above my laundry hamper next to my framed letter from Jim McGreevey.
Miss Heather
P.S.: For more inexplicably Fedders Friday-esque goodness be sure to check out Brownstoner’s new feature “Horror Show Fridays”.
Great Moments In Abjectecture: Sunset Park
After featuring so much Sunset Park goodness last week I thought today I would spice things up a bit by sharing some absolutely breath-taking examples of their abjectecture. The following structures may not sport Fedders boxes, but that doesn’t really matter. They embody the spirit of Fedderization and as such deserve a big ol’ New York Shitty nod. Here we go!
This beauty hails from 8th Avenue. If you look carefully you will notice this edifice once looked very much like its neighbor to the right. Not anymore!
It’s been FEDDERIZED! I really have to admire workmanship like this. It makes me feel right at home…
IN COLD WAR ALBANIA!
When I lived in Astoria I used to ride the N train. This was back before the W was brought in so my commute was always crowded as hell. One Friday afternoon I am riding home— one of many sardines packed into a glorified tin can— when I noticed this kid in front of me acting strangely. Then as we turned that sharp curve between Queensboro Plaza and Bebe Avenue he spewed forth a gusher of neon orange vomit. Everyone in or near the event horizon non-chalantly moved away from his salvo. I didn’t. I just stood there and stared. I had to: I had never seen anything like that before in my life.
I mention the previous anecdote because it sort of reminds me of this. These folks were not content with mere Fedders or Friedrichs boxes. They outdid the Joneses with a big fat Haier model and made good and damned sure everyone knew it!
Lastly I would like to close with this, a most fascinating specimen from 54th Street.
I know what you’re thinking:
Man oh man, where is Miss Heather going to start with this one!
I think a better question would be when will I ever finish! For the sake of brevity here are a few choice highlights.
Just a reminder folks: Enver Hoxha isn’t responsible for this stellar example of craftsmanship. This masterpiece hails from the good ol’ U.S. of fucking A.!
I initially wondered what comes out of these pipes.
Could it be for rainwater?
I thought to myself. NAH! These two conduits overflow with capitalism. Hallelujah!
And finally in the excessive signage department.
As if the slab of cement in of this building was uninviting enough, the powers that be still saw fit to admonish us in English and Chinese no less, that no playing is allowed in this “yard”.
But they didn’t rule out seppuku!* What’s more, they provided a nice big chrome fence to impale your self on!
Miss Heather
*Yes I realize this is Japanese, not Chinese. It’s the thought that counts!
Fedders Friday: Back With A Vengeance
Filed under: Fedders Friday
I’ll admit it. I have been sorely remiss recording the impact Fedderization has taken on our fair borough. Thankfully I went to Sunset Park last weekend and got my religion revulsion back. Big time.
EXAMPLE 1
The air conditioning boxes are technically Friedrichs but I am conferring honorary Fedders status to this building for the following reasons:
- It is ugly as hell.
- Sports no plant life whatsoever (save what the city dictates).
- Exposed gutters and mismatched brickwork: clearly this developer thought he (or she) could go higher. It didn’t happen so now we have this partial birth abortion.
- with obnoxious balconies…
- and security cameras.
EXAMPLE 2
Another Sunset Park beauty…
Replete with concrete, electric and gas meters.
EXAMPLES 3 & 4
Those of you who are more D.C. comic savvy know of Bizarro Superman. Now I present to you the Bizarro Fedders Special twins! They’re not prettier, only different. And very special!
Rapunzel…
Rapunzel let down your hair…
So I can climb up and get into your underwear!
— Beastie Boys.
Could someone explain the following to me?
An (ostensible) architect is responsible for this abomination. Who? I must know!
In closing which one of these buildings doesn’t look like the others?
If you guessed the towering pile of beige crap in the middle you are correct!
God bless you, Sunset Park. You need it.
(To be continued)
Miss Heather
The Taking Of Pelham
Filed under: Fedders Friday
Today’s installment of Fedders Friday comes courtesy of the Pelham Bay Park bound 6 train.
Just look at this beauty.
Is that a “For Rent” sign I see in the window?!?
I wasn’t fast enough to catch the front of this one.
No worries, I got the back. Speaking of balconies…
Check out these. I for one am a big fan of the slab of concrete gracing the top-most one.
Way to go, Bronx!
Miss Heather
Fedders Friday: Back To Basics In Bed Stuy
As I indicated yesterday, I took a rather long walk. I rambled through Greenpoint. I knocked around East Williamsburg and even a little Bushwick. Then I arrived at the home of much Fedders goodness: Bedford Stuyvesant. Here are some of my findings.
This beauty hails from Broadway. Note the prominently placed electric meters and extensive use of stick-on numbers. Clearly the person responsible for this building spared no expense: those numbers cost $1.99 a pop!
This charming specimen comes from Monroe Street. As I was taking the above photograph a child was wailing from the second window from the top left.
Maybe these satellite dishes offended his aesthetic sensibilities…
or Dong Dong (conveniently located at the end of the block) was taking to long to deliver his Chow Mein? Only he knows for certain.
This selection hails from Tompkins Avenue. For those of you not in the know, this thoroughfare is named after Daniel D. Tompkins, former New York State Governor and the 6th Vice President of the United States. Per Wikipedia:
While as governor of New York, Tompkins personally borrowed money and used his own property as collateral when the New York state legislature would not approve the necessary funds for the War of 1812. After the war, neither the state nor the federal government reimbursed him so he could repay his loans. Years of litigation did not end until 1824, and it took a toll on his health. Tompkins fell into alcoholism, and as vice president he at times presided over the Senate while drunk. He died in Tompkinsville three months after retiring as Vice President and was interred in the Minthorne vault in St. Mark’s Churchyard, New York City. Tompkins had the shortest post-vice presidency of any person who survived the office: 99 days (March 4, 1825–June 11, 1825).
Dying in disgrace (and being a Vice President) is bad enough. Do we really need to erect crap like this on the street that bears his name?
I mean the man DID help fund the War of 1812— out of his own pocket, no less.
But I suppose if this is the treatment Lafayette gets he is in good company.
Nonetheless, it strikes me as being a little unfair. I mean, if this is how we treat the memory of a pretty good Governor (if a bit marginal Vice President), how will time treat someone like Dick Cheney or Eliot Spitzer? My mind cannot muster anything suitable for Mr. Cheney, but I think I have Mr. Spitzer covered.
Former New York City Mayor James “Jimmie” J. Walker (who was hardly a saint but sure knew how to coin a phrase) was once quoted as saying:
A reformer is a guy who rides through the sewer in a glass bottom boat.
Methinks Mr. Spitzer did a little more than simply ride through the sewer in a glass bottom boat. I think he took a nice long bath.
Therefore I would like to humbly suggest that Greenpoint’s very own shit tits be renamed the Eliot L. Spitzer Memorial Waste Treatment Facility*. Thoughts anyone?
Miss Heather
*Sure, the man ain’t dead yet but his career in politics sure as hell is!
The Fedders Friday That Wasn’t
Earlier this week I quipped that I would be hard pressed to top this lovely specimen Fedders Friday. Well, I was right. This week I have nothing in the way of Feddertecture to offer up for your delectation. But that doesn’t mean I don’t have a piece of abjectecture to share. I do. Boy do I ever!
It’s been a while since I checked in on this beauty at 152 Broadway. Intrigued to see the process of Fedderization complete, I swung by yesterday to have a looksee. What awaited me was quite breathtaking…
and not in a good way. For those of you who are wondering: yes, this building once matched the one to the left.
Now it has been thoroughly and irrevocably crapified. I don’t know about you, but I really like the balcony on the top floor. It’s sort of like a parting “Fuck You” in the face of good taste.
Seriously. This has got to be one of the ugliest modifications of an existing building I have ever seen— and I have seen quite a few. Whoever is responsible for this vomitorium should have their architecture degree torn into little pieces. Instead I will have to be satisfied with giving 152 Broadway this week’s second New York Shitty Award of Excellence In Abjectecture.
Mazel tov!
Miss Heather
When Does A Friedrich Become A Fedders?
I have been asked on occasion exactly what constitutes a “Fedders building”. Even after several months of featuring Fedders Friday here on New York Shitty I have difficulty coming up with a satisfactory answer. It is a highly intuitive process, but I will attempt to put my criteria in writing here and now.
A. It must be a building whose aesthetic concerns have been completely subjugated to the utilitarian. In other words, it must be ugly.
B. It must employ two or more of the following:
- Exposed electrical meters
- Exposed gutters
- Large quantities of concrete
- A decided preference for parking over plant life
C. Fedders air conditioner boxes must be present.
Some have said that I have unfairly singled out the chaps at the Fedders corporation when doling out the dubious distinction that is Fedders Friday. Here is my rebuttal:
All buildings which feature Fedders boxes do not automatically qualify as candidates for Fedders fame. It takes a special mixture of the above-listed points to make the cut. The previous having been said, I have noticed there is a strong relationship between hideous outer borough architecture and the presence of Fedders boxes. Not unlike how a special guest speaker at a Psych of Sexuality class in college corrected an errant classmate of mine so many years ago:
While most lesbians are feminists, not all feminists are lesbians*.
The same goes for Fedders. The product seems to attract developers who espouse a certain philosophy to home building: build ’em cheap, ugly and as quickly as possible. It should also be noted that I did in the interest of parity try to launch a feature called Friedrichs Thursdays. But experience has proven that buildings sporting Friedrichs air conditioning boxes (on a visual level, anyway) are a cut above their Fedders brethren. Until I walked by Union Avenue and Conselyea Street yesterday, that is.
This building is nothing new.
I have walked by it many times, tut-tutting over the exposed electrical meters and sheer quantity of poured concrete. I do have to applaud the builders for making this structure (somewhat) wheelchair accessible. Unfortunately, lifts do not count for much when they are obstructed by bags of garbage.
But on Tuesday something struck me as being amiss. Something new had been added to this melange of the mediocre. Something— dare I say it— Fedders-worthy!
It has been retrofitted to have central air conditioning. BADLY.
Note the extensive use of foam sealant and thoughtful placement of the air conditioning units. I have little doubt the experience of sitting on these balconies will only become more pleasurable with the added value of being blasted with air conditioner exhaust.
But let’s get back to semantics. Since this building sports Friedrichs boxes it does not qualify to be featured on Fedders Friday. However, it does embody the spirit of the glory that is Fedderism. Therefore, I would like to give this masterpiece a very special award: The New York Shitty Award of Excellence In Abjectecture.
Way to go, guys! I’ll be hard-pressed to top this beauty later this week.
Miss Heather
*Which probably explains why I get along with lesbians so well: I am a feminist!
Fedders Friday: Slings, Arrows & Bushwick
Over the last week I have gotten a lot of guff regarding my stance on Greenpoint’s recently closed “nightclub“. A. LOT. OF. FLAK.
Some of the aforementioned “flak” was thoughtful and articulate criticism which I welcome (and read). However, most of the missives I had the pleasure of moderating over the last ten days did not fall in the previous category. These were of the garden variety sexist and racist persuasion: the weapon of choice for unimaginative Internet trolls.
*point*
*click*
*delete*
I’m going to let you all in on a little secret: I have long harbored views that many consider to be unpopular or “uncool”. I have never considered myself to be “cool”. What’s more I have been called every imaginable nasty epithet one can imagine (and then a few) during my 30-odd years in this mortal coil. Flick lit cigarettes at me. I’m used to it. If you want to REALLY give me the creeps, be nice to me.
Which brings me to this:
This home improvement job hails from Jefferson Street. I found the open windows on this balcony amusing so I took a photograph of it. As I rounded the corner a man shouted:
HEY LADY! HEYYYYY LADY!
I have not now nor have I ever responded to the term “lady”. I am a foul-mouthed broad who lives in Greenpoint; such courtesies are reserved for better-heeled and better mannered women than myself. Or are they?
HEY LADY!!!
On and on it went until I finally turned around:
WHAT?!?
Man: This guy wants to talk to you.
Miss Heather: ?
My would-be suitor/new friend ambles up to me. This chap has a cane. He is breathing heavily.
Miss Heather: Did I drop something?
Man With Cane: I want to ask you a question.
Miss Heather: (Oh shit, here we go…) Go ahead.
M.W.C.: If there are two couples…
Miss Heather: Two married couples?
M.W.C.: Yes. And one chooses to separate from the other, is it illegal?
Miss Heather: Not as far as I know.
M.W.C.: Are you sure?
Miss Heather: I think this is a no-fault divorce state*. If one party files, the other cannot block it.
M.W.C.: Really?
Miss Heather: Hey, I’m not an attorney. But that is what I understand to be the law**. ALWAYS CONSULT AN ATTORNEY! Do NOT take my word for it.***
Then I double-timed it down the block…
only to discover this beauty. Any divorce lawyers (or marriage counselors) out there who are looking for Bushwick digs, take note. This domicile at Stanwix Street and Bushwick Avenue is almost ready to move in!
It even sports a jaunty eagle on top!
And if my experience yesterday is any indication, you’ll have a plentiful clientele base. Starting with this guy.
Miss Heather
*This is not true.
**This is not true.
***New York is a fault divorce state. Hey, I never professed to be an attorney! Get your fucking legal advice from a lawyer, not some chick walking down the street.
Abandon All Hope…
(ye who enter here)
Today I am proud to announce a small but significant Fedders Friday first. Ordinarily when I spy a building worthy of being given a F.F. nod, it is based on the front of the building alone. This beauty (which hails from Hope Street) first caught my eye just around the corner on Havermeyer.
I know what you’re thinking:
Sure, those balconies (which appear to have had some gray sludge drizzled on them) have a pretty crappy view, but otherwise this isn’t that bad.
Well, in order to truly appreciate this building one must compare the back with the front.
Other than the two huge balconies, they bear no relationship with each other whatsoever. It sort of reminds me of Two Face from Batman Forever.*
Except of course, the Joker was merciful enough not to stick a garage in the middle of Harvey Dent’s kisser. Ouch.
Miss Heather
*Or The Dark Knight, take your pick.
Fedders Friday: Luxury Friedrichs Edition
Earlier this week my buddy over at Queens Crap and I were talking about this nugget of joy entitled “Greenpoint Lacks Luxe Condos” from The Real Deal. Here’s a snippet:
Greenpoint is an outpost of under-developed space. The neighborhood has been left largely untouched by luxury developments and rents can be as low as $1,300 for a one-bedroom apartment. Houses can still be bought for under $600,000. However, a few luxury developments have made their way into the community, notably Magic Johnson’s Viridan…
Clearly whoever wrote this has not set foot in this neighborhood— or we have differing opinions as to what constitutes “under-developed”. Speaking for myself, I think the conversion of this distinctive neighborhood into some petit bourgeois bedroom community/resort is progressing quite nicely. It does not need any “help”, thank you very much. Just take a look at this beauty going up on Newel Street.
What was the architect thinking when he (or she) decided to pair red brick with olive green and pigeon shit gray stucco? Seriously. Is this person color blind or did he think employing this jarring combination of colors was making a “statement”? Note the patch of yellow paint on the first floor. I am hoping against hope this is primer of something, but my gut instinct tells me otherwise.
Perhaps what The Real Deal was trying to say was Greenpoint is lacking in tasteful development. In which case, yes, we are definitely slow on the uptake. As for a $1,300 a month one bedroom, I wish these guys would tell me where it is. I haven’t heard of an apartment going for that price in years.
Miss Heather
P.S.: What really gets me about the “tone” is this tome is The Real Deal makes it seem like having a dearth luxury condominiums is a bad thing. Not every neighborhood can or should become a playground for the affluent. Just ask the folks who earn the median income here: $30,000 per year.
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