Lourdes Leon, who likes to go by Lola, has gotten three separate "Wassup?"s from passing skaters in the hour we've been sitting by the open window of Kiki's, a Greek restaurant frequented by downtown kids and tourists in the Chinatown-adjacent wedge known as Dimes Square. (Heard of it?) "Oh my God, this area," she says, flashing a peace sign at the latest one and rolling her eyes. "I keep seeing people I know. Ugh!" She looks over at a gentleman clutching a hardcover book like a Greek dramatist at a nearby table of three. "Is that guy reading aloud?" she mutters. "I'm gonna throw up."
The model-choreographer-dancer and, more recently, singer—she just released her first EP, Go, under the name Lolahol— spent the past weekend in the Cayman Islands at a Halloween ball for the fashion set, where she performed her first-ever single, a moody drum-and-bass number called “Lock&Key.” Today, she arrived via subway. Our table is buried in plates of chicken and potatoes, eggplant dip, tzatziki, and a glass of Sauvignon Blanc. Leon scoops up dip with pita, three nails missing from her set of silver acrylics. She used to live around here, but she much prefers Bushwick, where she lives now: It’s chill, there are no influencers or paparazzi, and everyone leaves her alone. “There’s, like, trash everywhere. I don’t mind that it’s disgusting,” she says brightly between bites. “I can go on vacation, you know what I mean? I’m privileged enough that I can do that.”
This story is from the {{IssueName}} edition of {{MagazineName}}.
Start your 7-day Magzter GOLD free trial to access thousands of curated premium stories, and 9,000+ magazines and newspapers.
Already a subscriber ? Sign In
This story is from the {{IssueName}} edition of {{MagazineName}}.
Start your 7-day Magzter GOLD free trial to access thousands of curated premium stories, and 9,000+ magazines and newspapers.
Already a subscriber? Sign In
Trapped in Time
A woman relives the same day in a stunning Danish novel.
Polyphonic City
A SOFT, SHIMMERING beauty permeates the images of Mumbai that open Payal Kapadia's All We Imagine As Light. For all the nighttime bustle on display-the heave of people, the constant activity and chaos-Kapadia shoots with a flair for the illusory.
Lear at the Fountain of Youth
Kenneth Branagh's production is nipped, tucked, and facile.
A Belfast Lad Goes Home
After playing some iconic Americans, Anthony Boyle is a beloved IRA commander in a riveting new series about the Troubles.
The Pluck of the Irish
Artists from the Indiana-size island continue to dominate popular culture. Online, they've gained a rep as the \"good Europeans.\"
Houston's on Houston
The Corner Store is like an upscale chain for downtown scene-chasers.
A Brownstone That's Pink Inside
Artist Vivian Reiss's Murray Hill house of whimsy.
These Jeans Made Me Gay
The Citizens of Humanity Horseshoe pants complete my queer style.
Manic, STONED, Throttle, No Brakes
Less than six months after her Gagosian sölu show, the artist JAMIAN JULIANO-VILLAND lost her gallery and all her money and was preparing for an exhibition with two the biggest living American artists.
WHO EVER THOUGHT THAT BRIGHT PINK MEAT THAT LASTS FOR WEEKS WAS A GOOD IDEA?
Deli Meat Is Rotten