BUSHWICK

Array
(
    [results] => Array
        (
            [0] => Array
                (
                    [ArticleID] => 926925
                    [Title] => New York, New York
                    [Summary] => 
I’ve just relocated to New York City. Not permanently, just for a few months while I do work with a milliner.

                    [DatePublished] => 2013-04-05 00:00:00
                    [ColumnID] => 134787
                    [Focus] => 0
                    [AuthorID] => 1516009
                    [AuthorName] => Mich L. Dulce
                    [SectionName] => YStyle
                    [SectionUrl] => ystyle
                    [URL] => 
                )

            [1] => Array
                (
                    [ArticleID] => 261985
                    [Title] => Subterranean alien blues
                    [Summary] => NEW YORK–Forget Sex and the City. This is hell on impractical shoes. My New York (so far) is not quite Mean Streets, but fits somewhere  between the silences  of Jim Jarmusch and the tangled  triplespeak of Woody Allen. It’s easy to fall in love with the romanticized notion of the city, one glossed with grime and highlighted with low lives, the other fought in high-fashion and endless cocktails with the strategically hip.
                    [DatePublished] => 2004-08-20 00:00:00
                    [ColumnID] => 133272
                    [Focus] => 0
                    [AuthorID] => 1149216
                    [AuthorName] => Audrey N. Carpio
                    [SectionName] => Young Star
                    [SectionUrl] => young-star
                    [URL] => 
                )

        )

)

abtest

New York, New York

By Mich L. Dulce | April 5, 2013 - 12:00am

I’ve just relocated to New York City. Not permanently, just for a few months while I do work with a milliner.

YStyle

Subterranean alien blues

By Audrey N. Carpio | August 20, 2004 - 12:00am

NEW YORK–Forget Sex and the City. This is hell on impractical shoes. My New York (so far) is not quite Mean Streets, but fits somewhere between the silences of Jim Jarmusch and the tangled triplespeak of...

Young Star