This recurring column offers the perspective of a 26 year old Black queer journalist navigating life as a freelance artist in Bushwick. A modern counterpoint to Carrie Bradshaw’s straight white Manhattanite escapades, Bushwick Bradshaw highlights the unique experiences of living in Bushwick today. From polyamorous roommates and rooftop parties to exploring queer and straight dating spaces, it’s all about finding connection and creativity in the midst of Brooklyn’s ever-changing landscape.
This week, my roommate and I decided to explore Bushwick’s lesbian bar scene in an effort to wingwoman each other toward moving past our most recent heartbreaks.
We were both nursing wounds from our previous relationships. My roommate’s ex, for instance, had lived with her—until their breakup prompted an eviction, leaving my roommate to move in with me near the border. The breakup wasn’t exactly private; her ex had been posting about it all over social media. My roommate worried these public posts were damaging her reputation in the “Bushwick Lesbian Scene,” so I did a little reconnaissance. My conclusion? No matter how popular someone seems online, their social media clout rarely translates to real-world influence.
Armed with this reassurance, we pregamed to shake off some pre-bar nerves. We split my go-to bodega order: a lemon pepper chicken hero with mozzarella sticks, red onions, and banana peppers, paired with spiked bottles of Joe’s pineapple lemonade. Sufficiently fortified, we hopped on the L train to our first stop: The Bush on Troutman Street.
The Bush, a neighborhood staple, was buzzing with energy thanks to the Lady Liberty’s playoff game. The bar was packed, and the championship vibes were strong—punctuated by a host dressed as Ellie the Elephant giving lap dances during commercial breaks. The atmosphere was electric, full of girl power and community spirit. It was a great time to make friends and build community, but we were all were so focused on the game there was not a single flirt in the house besides our knock off Ellie the Elephant host.
After the game, we took the L train to our second stop: the infamous Futch Night at The Woods in Williamsburg. The Woods isn’t a lesbian bar, but its lesbian-themed night has gone viral on TikTok, drawing a crowd every time. The chilly weather worked in our favor, sparing us the typical long line outside. Inside, however, the scene was less inviting. Futch Night has a reputation for leaning into Eurocentric beauty standards, and as a dark-skinned Black woman, I’ve often felt invisible in this space. This time was no different.
As I looked around, something else struck me: the youthfulness of the crowd. My roommate confirmed my suspicions, saying, “After Futch Night went viral on TikTok, it’s full of baby lesbians.” I was instantly mortified. As someone who spent two years working in education with high schoolers who are now turning 21, the thought of being surrounded by people barely out of their teens sobered me up fast. I turned to my roommate and confessed, “I don’t want to babysit someone. I’ve already wasted my early 20s in education babysitting. I want a woman who’s confident and knows her worth with or without me.”
In an attempt to kill my paranoia, I asked a group of girls nearby how old they were. The first girl said she was 22, which made my stomach drop, but the others were 26 and 29—slightly better. While my roommate flirted with them, I took photos, observing the desperation for attention in the room. Girls kept stopping me to ask for photos, eager to be seen. I left with a packed camera roll but no meaningful connections.
For the final night of Wingwoman Week, we each picked a destination. My roommate chose a fundraiser at Key Bar for a documentary about Dr. Magnus Hirschfeld, an early advocate for LGBTQ+ rights who argued that queerness is natural and issued ID cards for trans people in 1912. She had friends there, but they were territorial and grilled me with questions about my connection to her. Sensing the vibes, I floated around the bar, gravitating toward the drag queen Hazyl and the project’s director, Alex Yakacki, who shared more about the film. Hazyl turned out to be the Director of Operations for a Bushwick cannabis company, Flamer, and offered me a much-needed joint to enjoy while waiting for my roommate.
My pick for the evening was the Kissing Cowboys house party on Bogart Street. Hosted by Emma DiMarco in her studio space, where she also sells vintage clothing, the event had all the hallmarks of a great night. After navigating the side entrance and climbing to the fourth floor, we walked into a scene straight out of Studio 54. The space was packed with beautiful women, the DJ played hits like “She’s a Bad Mama Jama,” and the drinks were flowing.
I wore an orange slip dress I’d bought at Emma’s anniversary pop-up, which turned out to be a great conversation starter. It also helped me identify who was from the neighborhood versus those just visiting. Unlike The Woods, where everyone seemed preoccupied with being seen, the Kissing Cowboys party felt relaxed and genuine. It was about women enjoying each other’s company, dancing, and having a good time.
I was surprised when someone complimented my dress, and I mentioned I had bought it from the very space we were standing in. While they knew about the party, they had no idea the venue was also a vintage store. The dress not only sparked conversations but also gave me the chance to support a business I love and helped me spot who was truly local to the neighborhood.
The Kissing Cowboys party was the best event I’ve been to in a while for queer women. Plenty of hot girls to meet, room to dance, talk, play drinking games, and just have a good time. When I was at The Woods for Futch night it felt like everyone was there to be seen somewhere and get their photo taken, but at Kissing Cowboys it really felt like just girls being girls. I only took photos there for like ten minutes, because the flash was just taking people out of the moment from this perfectly curated space where no one was on their phones and everyone came to have a good time. I can call wingwomaning week a success, because I actually did hit it off with a girl and kissed her at the kissing cowboys party. I got her number, she lives in Bushwick, and we’re gonna meet up again, so thanks to Kissing Cowboys Wingwoman Week was a success.
Brianna Nunley is a Black and queer freelance photographer and writer from Orlando, Florida, born in Bridgeport, Connecticut. After graduating from Florida State University, Brianna moved to Bushwick, New York, where much of her artistic network was already based. She writes the Bushwick Bradshaw column for Bushwick Daily to offer the perspective of a Black journalist with a queer identity, juxtaposing her experiences with those of Carrie Bradshaw. Brianna is passionate about highlighting marginalized voices, LGBTQ+ culture, and the vibrant artistry of Bushwick.
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