I don't know about you, but I'm personally convinced that the West Village is turning into the new Murray Hill.
Not because there's a lack of charming establishments (as far as I know there's still no fro-yo chain on West 4th Street - which to be fair, some days I feel is major turn off), but because of the increased number of bros sporting sandals, Patagonias and basketball shorts that are stomping about at all times of the day.
Behold the HENRY. "High Earners, Not Rich Yet" - for those not in the know.
They're not totally fresh out of college, though everything about them would certainly make you believe otherwise. They're a few years into climbing the corporate ladder (read: sitting around all day doing nothing waiting for their banker bosses to load them up with spreadsheets at 6PM to keep them crosseyed, scrolling and pencil pushing all night long).
They have no real time to spend all the money that they're making, which is definitely a pretty penny. But at the same time, by New York standards certainly, they are nowhere near "Rich."
As the cast of Succession so brilliantly put it to cousin Greg, you can't do anything with five million dollars. It's a nightmare. You can't retire, but it's also not worth it to work. You're just the poorest rich person in America. The world's tallest dwarf. The weakest strong man at the circus.
In Manhattan, money is fun and all, but wealth is where things actually get interesting.
In conclusion, if someone self-describes as a HENRY, big red flag. They're also probably pretending they can get you a reservation at Carbone whenever, you know.
If someone calls you a HENRY, feel proud if you're below 24, and offended if 25 and above.
Oh god and don't even get us started on the term Yuppie - “Young Upwardly Mobile Professional.”
We could vomit just thinking about it.
[Photo via @rowingblazers]