A Day of Work, A Night of Rest

A Day of Work, A Night of Rest

At the end of a long week, the body and mind belong in a happy shavasana—or fetal position, whichever you prefer—under a fluffy down comforter for some well-deserved rest. Instead, I ended up at a sweaty dance club, which perhaps was the most natural and needed antithesis to my truer instincts. I chose it almost purely by name—same as I do my nail polish colors (like Essie's "Material Girl," a deep oxblood) and my psychoanalysts, (currently Hedy Diamond, no explanation necessary)—Home Sweet Home was to be my temporary abode from the hours of 11 p.m. until bedtime, around 4 a.m. when the dancing dies down and the lights go up. Renowned for it's dank Lower East Side basement party vibes and a few select taxidermied critters, the real appeal is not in the beverages, which are standard beer and cocktails, but the dance floor which is impossibly crowded in the way where you are moved to and fro by the eccentric, excited population and each song delights as a throwback to your high school dance days. Sometimes even middle school dance. But in the best ways. Nothing is awkward anymore and the ultimate stress release comes from relinquishing all control and formality and simply feeling the music.

» Home Sweet Home, 131 Chrystie St. #1, btw Broome & Delancey, 212.226.5708