The Gibson Girl Guide to NYC…with a twist
For those of you who have been around since the very beginning—and I mean early 2000s, pre-Instagram, pre-everything—you already know this guide. For my newer readers, let me take you back for a second.
My mom, who technically became a Gibson in 1983, is the original Gibson Girl. And every year since the late ’90s, she and her friends took an annual trip to New York City. I think it started as a Christmas shopping trip… and very quickly turned into something much more necessary.
Now, my mom is the ultimate hostess-with-the-mostest, and she kept detailed notes from every trip—restaurants, shops, where to find the best knockoffs (you know, the important NYC information). So naturally, anytime someone was heading to the city, they’d reach out… and she would send over her iconic Gibson Girl’s Pocket Guide to New York City.
You could print it, fold it up, throw it in your bag—subway directions and all.
And just a reminder: this was before Google Maps, before Instagram, before you could look up “best martini NYC” and get 47 opinions in 0.3 seconds.
This is how our guides were born.
Fast forward to 2015, when I decided it would be a great idea to go backpacking across Europe. My parents had a few rules:
Rule #1: I had to make contact daily. Blog post, Instagram, text, smoke signal—something.
Rule #2: They made me watch Taken the night before I left.
Rule #3: I had to complete self-defense classes (don’t worry, I have a very solid right hook).
Rule #4: If they said, “please don’t go to that country,” I had to listen. (The list was short… so I behaved.)
What started as a way to prove I was alive quickly turned into something else entirely—me continuing the tradition of documenting every place I went.
And no, it’s not every city… but it’s a pretty solid collection.
So when I decided to bring Brittany in Wanderland back to life, there was really only one place to start: the original.
But this time… with a twist.
I became an aunt this year—to a brand new Gibson Girl. Her name is Vivian, and naturally, her first major trip needed to be New York City.
And let me just say this: even though she wasn’t even a year old… we had the best time.
Which brings me to this version of the guide—slightly updated, still very opinionated, and now officially baby-approved.
So without further ado…