New York Shopping in a Tight Spot

[José Balido]

Shopping in New York City, even for a somewhat jaded ex-New Yorker like myself, can often yield some pretty nifty surprises. A few years ago, to cite but one example, I found three spectacular wooden Catholic saints from Macau in an outdoor Chelsea antiques market that no longer exists (thanks to a new condo). What caught my eye about these saints was their distinct Asian features, something I'd never seen before, or since. The price? $90 each. Two still adorn my home in Miami; the third I sold on eBay to an antiques dealer in South Korea for $700. Not bad, eh?
 


So it is that every time I go back to my old stomping grounds, I keep an eye out for unusual Manhattan shopping experiences. Usually it's the merchandise itself that's unusual, but on a recent drizzly morning in Greenwich Village, it was the venue that first made me stop in my tracks. At 183-1/8 West 10th Street, wedged into a sliver of an alley between two buildings, Laura Lobdell's quirky jewelry boutique may or may not be the narrowest shop in New York, but it's certainly the narrowest I've ever set foot in – or would want to, given my mild claustrophobia. 

The space, however, doesn't seem to bother Laura or Xiao, her adorable canine sidekick ("Xiao" means – what else? – "small" in Chinese). Together, the team sells a truly unique collection of jewelry and accessories handmade in New York City from found objects, such as the ring pictured in the slide show above, crafted from a Champagne cage, or the pendants made from old soda can pull-tabs.

Something about the narrow space must make for wacky tenants; one of Laura's predecessors many years ago was a Gypsy fortune teller whose sons reportedly ran the local hubcap-stealing ring. On a more mundane level, a more recent tenant was a sandwich shop, though I'd not be surprised to learn that they only sold ostrich hoagies, such is the wacky effect of this magical space on all who cross its narrow threshhold.