Here’s Where the New “Gossip Girl” Characters Live Now Compared to the Original Series

Here’s Where the New “Gossip Girl” Characters Live Now Compared to the Original Series

Gossip Girl” is back, and so are the lofty homes that made the original show so famous. After the reboot’s HBO Max premiere on July 8, viewers have a clearer idea about the who’s who of this latest group of elites, including their updated digs.

So much has evolved since the first cast took the city by storm, beginning with the neighborhoods (more broadly, the boroughs) they reside in. Where do the new “Gossip Girl” characters live compared to the OGs, and what does that say about how NYC has changed since the nine years the initial series ended? That’s a secret I’ll never tell (just kidding, let’s dive in).

Max Wolfe, aka the new Chuck Bass

Starting with party boy Max Wolfe, otherwise known as Chuck Bass 2.0., his townhouse is located in the West Village of Manhattan, filled with exposed-brick and antique furniture. In contrast, Chuck’s penthouse suite at The Empire Hotel on the Upper West Side was a brooding bachelor pad, with low lighting and a dark color palette. Max’s Greenwich Village home is warm, playful, and cozy — quite the opposite of Chuck’s upper Manhattan home. Who knows, maybe the location change implies he’s a more easygoing bad boy this time around?

Julien Calloway, aka the new Serena van der Woodsen

As the self-proclaimed it-girl of the series, Julien Calloway’s lavish, high-rise penthouse continues the tradition passed down by Serena van der Woodsen. Instead of the Upper East Side, however, she’s moved to trendy TriBeCa, in a sprawling space (which Locations Manager Matthew Kania confirms is The Beekman Residences) that doesn’t lack any of the luxe finishes. Though more modern-minimalist than Serena’s residence, the apartment — with an address in one of the most expensive neighborhoods in NYC — is exactly what we’d expect from Constance Billard’s reigning queen bee.

Zoya Lott, aka the new Jenny Humphrey

Zoya, Julien’s younger half-sister, fulfills the typical “outsider” role. After convincing her father to migrate from Buffalo to NYC, she moves into an airy apartment on the Upper West Side. Zoya is different from her wealthy peers, just like Dan and Jenny Humphrey, and her address doesn’t seem to help (as the only one living on the UWS, is this the “outcast” area like Brooklyn was in the first series?). Still, whether she and Julien erupt in a Serena-and-Blair-style showdown will arguably depend more on their complicated family history than anything else.

Obie Bergmann, aka the new Nate Archibald

Later in the episode, we also get a better glimpse at Obie Bergmann’s spacious loft located in Dumbo, Brooklyn. It’s a ways away from his archetype Nate Archibald’s stately Upper East Side townhouse, but that just speaks to the increased appeal of Dumbo and Brooklyn at large since the original series premiered in 2007. Without making him an outsider, Obie’s contemporary Brooklyn loft contrasts the original show, where almost everyone lived on the UES.

Now that it’s no longer passé to cross the bridge, if the series premiere is any indication of what’s to come, the new “Gossip Girl” characters will likely spend a lot of time outside of the Upper East Side.

Neighborhoods Still Don’t Feel “Normal,” How Can You Decide to Move?

Neighborhoods Still Don’t Feel “Normal,” How Can You Decide to Move?

If you’re moving to a new town right now, it may be hard to envision your life there post-pandemic. For example, if you visited Seattle today, you’d notice there’s no traffic, many businesses are closed, and even the iconic Pike Place Market stands empty. It’s the polar opposite of “normal” Seattle.

Scoping out a new neighborhood these days might not give you the most accurate feel for what it’s like to live in the area long-term. You can still plan a successful move, though. Just use the tips below to get a solid idea of a neighborhood’s new normal before you sign a lease.

Look up photos and videos of the neighborhood from 2019 and earlier. 

Communities can change rapidly, so don’t go too far back in time, but do a quick search for pre-pandemic photos of the neighborhood. First, try a Google search, then check relevant tourism websites, social media groups, and online forums. Find pictures from different seasons, and if you know the neighborhood hosts events regularly, take a look at those, too. 

Peruse local online communities. 

Many neighborhoods have Reddit or Facebook pages with thorough neighborhood guides for newcomers, upcoming event listings, and general discussions about the area. Lurk in the comments sections of these, or pose a few questions of your own.

Try to find a longtime resident and ask them a few questions. Ideally, look for someone who shares at least some of your interests so that you can get the most relevant information. For example, if you’re a parent with young children, you might want to talk to a local parent about after-school activities and summer camps. 

Look into how the neighborhood has handled the pandemic.

Some changes will outlast the pandemic. Check for any new laws, business closures, or trends that will remain in place as pandemic precautions lift — and take note of the community’s vaccination rates over time. The local city council’s website is a great place to start for this kind of information.

Scope out the job market.

Will there be jobs available nearby if you need one in the future? Things are probably going smoothly if you work remotely right now, but what if you need to find new work later? Check local job boards and networking groups, and look at job growth projections like this one from Glassdoor, which shows the most recent data from various metro areas around the United States. 

Have a plan to make new friends. 

According to Nextdoor, knowing as few as six neighbors has proven health benefits like reducing the likelihood of feeling lonely, as well as lowering depression and social anxiety — all critical factors as we ride out the pandemic. So whether you’re a social butterfly or a homebody, building community within your neighborhood is essential. Is there a local book club you can join? A café within walking distance? An active neighborhood association? If not, are you willing to say hi on the sidewalk or knock on a couple of doors and introduce yourself? 

Neighborhoods may look slightly different right now, but that doesn’t mean you should put off moving. Instead, just work to shift your guideposts for identifying whether a place is right for you.

Getting a Dog Totally Changed My Perspective of My Neighborhood

Getting a Dog Totally Changed My Perspective of My Neighborhood

Four months into the pandemic, my therapist leveled with me. “Sarah,” she advised, “you need two things: unconditional love, and a reason to get up in the morning.” Woof. I’d been in a pathetic place. The shutdown’s sudden, expansive changes left me in a semi-permanent state of sedation. While my isolation was no greater or worse than anyone else’s, I found no comfort in the company of the world at large. Having talked about raising a dog for years, it felt like the ideal moment to dedicate time and effort to training and nurturing a puppy. Thus, like countless others, I decided to give the companionship of a pandemic pup a go.

Did you know that bringing home a puppy during a Chicago winter is among the dumbest things you can do? I discovered this early on, taking Rodeo down from my eighth-floor apartment a dozen times a day into the frigid air to meander along the salt-stained, gray concrete. But those cold walks with my little corgi led me to a new community — and a new sense of normalcy. 

As you might have guessed, my loneliness did not go away immediately. At least, not at first. I knew raising a dog would be incredibly challenging, and at times, seemingly impossible. Honestly, I think I blacked out for the first 10 days or so. There’s a very sweet neighborhood boy who knows Rodeo by name; for the life of me, I have no clue who this kid is. Then there’s the warm and gentle woman who, when we cross paths, asks if I’m eating enough. Apparently in those early days of dog-parenting, I met her and told her I was too stressed to eat. Again, zero recollection. Among my favorite new acquaintances was the progressive, middle-aged divorcée who noticed me negotiating a walk with my very tiny dog and said, “You’re a new dog mom. Are you okay? It will get easier.” Kate, if you’re reading this, you’re a lifesaver.

I had been struggling, without question. And on top of the daily challenges of teaching an animal to go on a basic walk, figuring out a feeding and elimination (aka “pooping”) schedule, and soothing a pup frightened by Chicago’s nonstop cacophony, I felt incredible guilt. I’d made a massive life choice getting Rodeo, and no matter how prepared I was (very), nor that I’d anticipated the worst (which all happened), I felt foolish saying out loud, “Damn, this is ROUGH.” 

Hearing those words from someone who has been there was transformative. And while my friends were supportive, I wanted to surround myself with Dog People — folks in the thick of it. So, Rodeo and I started visiting our neighborhood dog park, the adorably named Wiggly Field. Shuffling around in parkas, faces obscured by masks and earmuffs and beanies, we Wiggly Fielders lifted each other up. When a woman rattled by the ongoing trials of daily pandemic life and her energetic canine wandered into the park, teary eyed and muttering “I can’t do this,” the rest of us played fetch with her dog while she collected herself. Our dogs lined up along the fence, monitoring their owners as we freed a car trapped in the snow under the L. We distracted each other’s mutts while a handful of park goers led a baby rat to safety, much to the chagrin of the terriers. Swapping vet recommendations, stories of pets who’ve crossed the rainbow bridge, and orders of “Down, boy!” followed by exhausted apologies, this community of dog lovers became my own.

It wasn’t just that I felt a kinship with these veteran and pandemic puppy parents. During my brief morning and evening trips to let Rodeo unleash — literally and metaphorically — I felt normal. I had missed interacting with strangers, shooting the breeze, standing relatively close to another human. For four long months, this was my Lollapalooza, headlined by a massive floof hilariously named Minnie and a butt-scratch-loving pooch named Bruno.  

As it turns out, my therapist was right. Now, my reason to get up every morning has four very tiny legs and an internal alarm clock I’d love to set a couple hours later. I’m not sure if she loves me unconditionally — she absolutely prefers my boyfriend to me — but I know I love Rodeo so much it’s physically, brutally painful. I can’t picture the last months of the pandemic without her there, and I’m certain I couldn’t have gotten through it without my Wiggly Field community. Sometimes, and indeed in the darkest hours of the past year, all I needed was a little distraction, a little perspective, and a very little pup.

Sarah Magnuson

Contributor

Sarah Magnuson is a Chicago-based, Rockford, Illinois-born and bred writer and comedian. She has bachelor’s degrees in English and Sociology and a master’s degree in Public Service Management. When she’s not interviewing real estate experts or sharing her thoughts on laundry chutes (major proponent), Sarah can be found producing sketch comedy shows and liberating retro artifacts from her parents’ basement.

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The Secrets That Street Names Can Tell You About a Neighborhood

The Secrets That Street Names Can Tell You About a Neighborhood

Growing up, I lived on Horseshoe Place, a quirky Nebraska street name that inspired the kids in the neighborhood to put our own unique spin on the basketball shooting game HORSE. (We played HORSESHOE PLACE, which took much longer but was, in our estimation, also more fun.)

Games aside, street names can actually tell us a lot about our neighborhoods and cities. Some are fairly standard — letters, numbers, and tree names, for instance — but others are more elaborate or symbolic, named for a city founder or an influential person in town. Some are a total mystery, even to local historians.

In many cities, street names are snapshots of a particular moment in time, offering a portal into the past — if only we take the time to notice them.

“I use them as a history lesson: who was this person? Why did they get a street named for them?” says Tom Noel, professor of history and director of public history, preservation, and Colorado studies at the University of Colorado Denver.

In the early days of the U.S., a city’s settlers or leaders decided on the street names, often using their own last names for simplicity or out of pride, Noel says. Later, developers primarily took over this role, often strategically picking names that would create a positive association with the new neighborhood

“You don’t often find a street called ‘Swamp’ or ‘Muddy Bottoms’ or a negative name,” Noel says. “Instead, you have ‘Paradise Road’ or ‘Heavenly Drive’ or whatever.”

Though some street names remain fixed for decades, others change over time. As cities grew, their leaders often undertook a project called street rationalization, which involved re-naming and re-numbering streets to be more consistent, especially in cases where entire thoroughfares were broken up with several different names. This was particularly helpful for utility providers and emergency responders, Noel notes. (So if your street name seems a little boring, that may be why — and you may be able to figure out its original name with a little digging!)

Street names also change because a community’s values and priorities have changed, Noel says. Because the United States sits on land stolen or taken by force from Native Americans, for example, many street names commemorate those events and the people who lead them. For example, Denver’s Market Street was originally McGaa Street, named for one of the city’s founders, William McGaa. But, as it turns out, McGaa was an unsavory character who, among other things, somewhat sneakily settled Denver on land belonging to the local Native population. City leaders gave his street a new name, Holladay Street, which later became Market Street. (The second name change came about because the street became a hub for sex work, so stigmatized at the time that the Holladay family didn’t want to be associated with it.)

In the same vein, new street names are a way to honor important figures, contemporary or historical, or draw attention to a city’s historically overlooked residents. David Heighway, county historian for Hamilton County, Indiana, recently selected new street names for a development in the city of Noblesville. For one of them, he chose “Hoard Drive,” named for three Black brothers who enlisted in the Union Army during the Civil War. One brother, John Hoard, returned to Noblesville after the war and ran for the elected law enforcement position of city constable in 1880. He won the election handily and served in the role for four years.

“These are stories that aren’t being told, and they’re an important part of the county’s history,” Heighway says. “It’s just clarifying the historic record. There’s this hugely important person who, just through cultural amnesia, has disappeared. We need to bring them back and talk about them.”