
by Yvonne Vávra
The Upper West Side is about to receive a real treasure—one created by a New York treasure, at that. It’s nothing less than the city’s own spark, captured and carefully tucked away by the late Bill Cunningham, the legendary New York Times fashion photographer. Now, a vault of that very spark is being opened: tens of thousands of his photographs, negatives, and pieces of memorabilia will find a permanent home at the New York Historical on Central Park West.

For decades, until his death at 87 in 2016, Cunningham roamed the city on his bike, documenting what people wore as they lived out their own versions of New York life. His work captures the looks people created for themselves, and the way they collectively dressed the city. To Cunningham, fashion was “armor to survive the reality of everyday life,” as he said in the 2010 documentary Bill Cunningham New York. “I don’t think you could do away with it; it would be like doing away with civilization.”
Now we get to see the beauty Cunningham captured at the New York Historical. But what about outside the museum? How are we making the UWS look?

Well… how do I put this kindly? When you spot someone with breathtaking style on the Upper West Side, your first thought might be: visiting, probably. Don’t throw your coffee at me—I say this with love, as one of us! We’re looking good, no question. Have you seen us? Glorious. I just mean, style-wise, the typical Upper West Sider often looks like they’ve got other things on their mind. I’m talking about a typical one, not you! But let’s be honest, a stunning outfit that triggers a double take and another glance back over your shoulder? It’s rare. To sum up the pickle I’ve written myself into: on your average Tuesday afternoon, you don’t see much that would’ve made Cunningham slam the brakes on his bike.
The mornings can be mind-blowing. Upper West Side dogs on their first walks of the day are accompanied by humans who sometimes look like they got dressed mid-fall—in whatever clothing put up the least resistance. It’s giving teen angst, a grown-up edition. I’ve contributed more than once, say, by showing up to the park with my shirt inside out, the washing instructions flapping in the wind like a price tag. Definitely on sale. Good thing dogs don’t judge.

That said, the Upper West Side does have style in its DNA. I mean, this is the neighborhood that gave the world Lady Gaga! It was here that a small shop on 85th and Broadway—opened in 1967 by single UWS mom Selma Weiser—grew into a boutique empire that reshaped the fashion scene in New York and beyond. Charivari, the name Weiser chose for her store, taken from the French word for ‘uproar’, made the Upper West Side a hotbed for cutting-edge style, thanks to her eye for avant-garde designs and her support of emerging talent. Marc Jacobs got his start here as a stock boy, and Yohji Yamamoto and countless other designers have Weiser to thank for their breakthrough in the US. Charivari was “Planet Cool”, as former employee Kerry Harris put it in the documentary Charivari: A Fashion Uproar. At its peak, Charivari had multiple locations across the neighborhood and made the Upper West Side the place where the cool people went to get dressed.

Charivari’s last store closed in 1998, but the Upper West Side had another style icon holding court since the ’60s. At Off Broadway Boutique, on 72nd Street between Broadway and Columbus, Lynn Dell Cohen sold everything needed to, as she put it, “dress for the theater of our lives.” Sensational ensembles and every imaginable accessory to match—really, everything you could dream of, including hats so dramatic, sculptures might be a better word. But arguably the most fabulous thing in the store was Lynn Dell herself. Until her death in 2015, she brought out the inner glamour of everyone who walked through the door.

Lynn Dell became a style icon well beyond her boutique. She was a regular on Advanced Style, the blog by Ari Seth Cohen that celebrates fabulously dressed older women—in fact, many Upper West Siders have been featured there. Maybe style really is everywhere in the neighborhood, and I just don’t always know how to look.

Because here’s the thing: Bill Cunningham wore the same blue work jacket every day. He didn’t draw attention—he paid it. He found endless joy watching the fashion show unfold on the streets. Well, these are our streets, and this is our show. Bill taught us to look, and when we do so with his kind of curiosity, we might see the beauty of someone dressed exactly for the day they’re having. There they are: our neighbors, making it through the theater of their lives, looking the way they do. And we get to share that little scene with them. That’s quite extraordinary—definitely worth hitting the brakes for.

Yvonne Vávra is a magazine writer and author of the German book 111 Gründe New York zu lieben (111 Reasons to Love New York). Born a Berliner but an aspiring Upper West Sider since the 1990s (thanks, Nora Ephron), she came to New York in 2010 and seven years later made her Upper West Side dreams come true. She’s been obsessively walking the neighborhood ever since.
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Great photos and text as always Yvonne. Thank you.
Love these!
I wish people would dress nicer like in the past.
I do. I never leave the house in gym clothes unless I’m going to the gym or out for a run. I even get dressed up to go to the bodega. Most of my stuff is vintage from the ’60s or ’70s. and I get stopped all the time by men and women alike.
A woman on the subway once complimented my ensemble and asked if I was on my way to an audition. I said, “Nope! These are just my regular clothes.” She said, “Oh, I LOVE it.” I don’t do it for the compliments, I do it because I swear I’m channeling my grandparents, who I remember ALWAYS dressing up when I was growing up int he ’70s, but of course it’s lovely to receive them.
I can’t stand seeing people out and about in stuff I wouldn’t even wear in the privacy of my own home. I love passing another person on the street who’s dressed up and sharing a smile with them.
Upper West Side no longer has style in its DNA.
No individuality. Everyone looks alike.
Too many transplants who never learned how to wear cloths.
I wear white pants a lot. It’s amazing the (complimentary) comments I receive. It’s Summer!!
White pants! You must not sit down anywhere 🙂
All pictures of people from behind? Would be nice to engage with the people and take pics for the front!
Hey, at least we know where’s Waldo! 🙂 Love this! And … love NYC and especially the UWS (yeah, I know, I’m not objective, but still …).
Great pics and article!
Ah the late great Charivari—so many UWS locations—by the Museum of Natural History multiple locations on Broadway and eventually 57th St as I recall—I still have my Yojhi Yamamoto coat and a few other now vintage items—also the Off Broadway Boutique was quite the shopping odyssey
Another beautifully written piece. Your affection for your adopted neighborhood is evident and so well expressed. Contagious! The landing of Cunningham’s archive at the NYHS is just perfect. Thanks so much for this. I love your sentence “He didn’t draw attention -he paid it.” You are doing that, too. Thanks!
Fun article and pics! I loved Charivari!
Still have some wonderful sport coats I bought at Charivari in the 70’s when I was a size 34 . As I wane perhaps they will fit again. What a life of diversity and dynamism on the UWS from the 50’s to now.
When I’m the best-dressed person on 72nd street… sad! I love the point about Bill C always wearing his work jacket uniform to capture the state of style (usually from 5th Ave and 57th). Thank you for this truthful yet amusing essay.
Great piece. Thank so much for this. I still miss Charivari and I had forgotten about Off Broadway. That store was always an experience, it never let you down, and it was Fun! How many stores today are Fun?
Bill Cunningham covered the non profit fundraising galas for the New York Times and it became increasingly important for organizations to have their events featured in the Times because the publicity would attract attendees and donors. When I asked Bill Cunningham to take photos at our organization’s event, without his making a commitment, he first demanded that I send him a lavish bouquet of flowers and some expensive wine as a “consideration.” Just another side to this New York story.
So he was a real New Yorker!
Interesting.
UWS-ers ‘accessorize’: Piercings. Tattoos. Vapes. Starbucks coffee cups. Dogs. Backpacks & tote bags. Canes.
Walkers.
Thank heaven they can use walkers and get about in this wonderful neighborhood…..and not stuck in a chair in their tiny apartment!!
Women in yoga pants. Men in suburban frump. Either one pushing a stroller to or from the nearest Starbucks. This is the fashion statement of our neighborhood.
Why does it bother you?
I dunno. I won’t wear anything too revealing or ratty but if I’m doing my thing in my own neighborhood, I’m not going to dress up. I know when to wear more formal clothes but even “business casual” is unnecessary when I’m going to the supermarket, walking a dog, having brunch with friends. Clean sweatpants or shorts are fine. We all deserve to have time where we don’t have to be “on.” For me, that’s the beauty and comfort of being in my own neighborhood.
I love Bill Cunningham. I hope I remember to see this exhibit when I am back in New York
Just get some good jeans. I know a place.
Hilarious! Though, no American Eagle on UWS
The UWS is a fashion desert, as shown by the demise of any corporation who looks at the demographics of the UWS, sees all the high incomes, and thinks they can make money here. Looking at you, Barney’s, Loehmanns, and yes, Charivari. People on the UWS don’t seem to want to spend money on clothes. Having said that, as a photog I dabble in the space and can point out three Instagram accounts of Upper West Siders who break the mold.
@artfulcitystyle
@dianagabrielnyc
@purelypatricia
Charivari was ahead of its time but it was also way too expensive for the vast majority of people who lived in the neighborhood at the time. It was a solidly working and middle class neighborhood full of people who couldn’t buy $100 shirts.
We aren’t dressing up for anyone on the UWS, not even for Bill. That’s the beauty of the neighborhood.
I’d be happy if people would stop wearing pajamas outside.
Pathetic