It's not just you. Sometimes this seven-square-mile piece of the world can feel small.
Sometimes you have the urge to gas up the '67 'Stang, dust off your best ironic tee, throw on Tom Petty and hit the road—to at least nine miles out.
Until you can, though, head to One Trip Pass, a new pop-up shop tucked in the Levi's store in Union Square, filled with handpicked clothes and one-of-a-kind finds from another lucky bastard's enviable monthlong cross-country road trip.
Curated by Jay Carroll—former brand manager for Rogues Gallery, who zigzagged from Maine to San Francisco combing through thrift shops and estate sales—this subterranean hangout is part American history museum and part ye olde general store.
You can pick up throwbacks like Steve McQueen-inspired nylon windbreakers, crewneck sweaters made of heavy-duty slubby cotton, and stars-and-stripes Pendleton blankets (we've heard the preferred article for impromptu cornfield romps with Iowa farm girls).
You can also treat the space like an Americana archive from the '60s—from Wisconsin-made Stormy Kromer caps to wooden yo-yos and (finally debuting in San Francisco) cattle troughs from west Texas.
Or sit back in a leather armchair and chat with Jay about the feathered-hair rodeo queens he met in Arizona, or the fleet of water-skiers who shotgunned beers with him in Louisiana.
If you buy him a shot, he may even tell you about Duluth.
Sometimes you have the urge to gas up the '67 'Stang, dust off your best ironic tee, throw on Tom Petty and hit the road—to at least nine miles out.
Until you can, though, head to One Trip Pass, a new pop-up shop tucked in the Levi's store in Union Square, filled with handpicked clothes and one-of-a-kind finds from another lucky bastard's enviable monthlong cross-country road trip.
Curated by Jay Carroll—former brand manager for Rogues Gallery, who zigzagged from Maine to San Francisco combing through thrift shops and estate sales—this subterranean hangout is part American history museum and part ye olde general store.
You can pick up throwbacks like Steve McQueen-inspired nylon windbreakers, crewneck sweaters made of heavy-duty slubby cotton, and stars-and-stripes Pendleton blankets (we've heard the preferred article for impromptu cornfield romps with Iowa farm girls).
You can also treat the space like an Americana archive from the '60s—from Wisconsin-made Stormy Kromer caps to wooden yo-yos and (finally debuting in San Francisco) cattle troughs from west Texas.
Or sit back in a leather armchair and chat with Jay about the feathered-hair rodeo queens he met in Arizona, or the fleet of water-skiers who shotgunned beers with him in Louisiana.
If you buy him a shot, he may even tell you about Duluth.
