I Went To The Landmark Commission Hearing For Carrie Bradshaw's Iconic Stoop, And It Completely Changed The Way I Think About Privacy

I didn't expect to cry during a New York City Landmark Commission hearing, let alone over something as seemingly small as a proposed gate installation. But there I was, getting choked up, as the homeowner of a historic brownstone in New York City's West Village made her plea for the city to approve her right to install a short, arched gate at the bottom of her brownstone's steps.

Let me back up.

For fans of Sex and the City like myself, Carrie Bradshaw's brownstone stoop is one of the iconic and recognizable locations in the show. And unlike many New York exteriors seen on TV, the stoop isn't part of a Hollywood set but rather an actual brownstone in New York City.

From Carrie sitting outside to finish a cigarette to Big pulling up in his town car, these steps have served as the backdrop for many of Sex and the City's most memorable moments.

The owner of the brownstone has lived there for over 46 years, since Nov. 8, 1978, long before the show began filming. But living in this famous brownstone has presented many challenges for its tenants. Hordes of tourists regularly visit and take photos, and influencers often film TikToks outside on the steps. There have even been reports of people trying to climb inside the window. So, the brownstone's owner, Barbara, went in front of the New York City Landmark Commission for a proposed change. In a publicly available letter, she recounts how her stoop became the filming location for the show over 20 years ago.

The statement continues: "At the time, no one knew the show would turn into anything long-lasting...much less the iconic fantasy vehicle and touchstone for NYC’s magic that it has become."

Barbara then goes on to explain how she's tried other privacy measures in the past, such as a chain across the base of the stoop: "The 6th Precinct advised me years ago to put a chain across the base of the stoop with a 'No Trespassing-Private Property' sign. It helps, but not enough. Many visitors respect the chain. But many do not."

The owner concludes her statement with this: "After 20-plus years of hoping the fascination with my stoop would die away and fans would find a new object for their devotion, I have acknowledged we need something more substantial. In order to regain a reasonable quality of life for our tenants and ourselves, we need to install a proper gate."

There are numerous images throughout the proposal document of other brownstones in the area that have installed fences, which is the proposal's way of showcasing that there is precedent for these kinds of changes.

Now, I had never been to a Landmark Commission hearing before. But they're open to the public, so I decided to head on over to the courthouse and sit in on the hearing myself.

You can watch the hearing, too, by going to this YouTube video. The section about Carrie Bradshaw's townhouse, i.e. 66 Perry Street, starts at 1:35:00 and lasts a little under 30 minutes.

I don't know what you're imagining when you're picturing Barbara, the owner, but if you have an image of some angry, out-of-touch New Yorker, I want you to reorient that thinking immediately.

She was so sweet and so warm and expressed love for her community. She didn't want to put up a fence and said multiple times that she understood why people came to take photos in front of her home. This proposed gate was becoming inevitable for her and her neighbors' safety.

During the hearing, Barbara shared some words beyond her written proposal. She said the presence on her "celebrity staircase" is "endless."

Through tears, she said that it wasn't her hope to gate the house but that "what was beautiful in the late 19th century is unfortunately in need of more protection in our century and in our time.

I hoped for literally decades that this would pass, but at this point, I think even someone as stubborn as I am has to admit that this isn't going away...

I wanted to do something that would add to the beauty of the front, not just look like a barrier...

This is home to three families. Take all the pictures you wish standing on the street, but please don't climb into our space and into our windows."

Three remote participants then shared their testimonies.

One participant was Christina Conroy from the Victorian Society of New York, who supported installation of the gate. Christina talked about how NYC stoops are simultaneously private and public spaces.

She shared that the Victorian Society of New York typically opposes the addition of gates on stoops as they "betray [their] semi-public nature." Still, they are willing to make an exception in this instance due to the "extraordinary fame of Sex and the City...[which] has turned this townhouse and, more specifically, this stoop into an entertainment landmark and has completely obliterated any sense of its privacy."

The homeowner's neighbor, a disabled veteran named AJ Parker, also testified. She shared that "every single day, the number of tourists is impossible. It is dangerous."

She continued, "This is one of the most egregious situations when it comes to personal property being attacked all day, every day.

People climb all of the stoops on the street. They will climb over [Barbara's] chain that is there. They will go up to the top. I have yelled at people, I have spoken to people, I have been nice to people. I have been threatened. People have threatened to punch me in the face.

[People] feel so entitled to this piece of private property. I don't think it's actually coming across how severe the situation is.

So please give your full support to Barbara for her application."

After that, a moved Barbara said she'd never met AJ before and quietly shared the sentiment that caused me to tear up. In thanking AJ for her support, Barbara said, "It's nice to know that the Village is still a village."

There was something so community-affirming that at this moment when Barbara's right to privacy was being devalued and minimized by people who didn't even know her, it was a stranger who decided to tune in and stand up for her right to privacy.

The committee discussed their thoughts about the proposed design (I know nearly nothing about architecture, but there was some back and forth about whether the gate should be arched or flat across the top).

The committee then voted unanimously to support Barbara's right to install a gate. It was a beautiful moment.

Afterward, I went up to Barbara just to say congratulations, and to my surprise, she embraced me in a warm hug. She seemed so relieved to be able to reclaim even a small amount of her privacy.

So, after all of this, I was curious to visit the brownstone myself. Like I mentioned before, I grew up watching Sex and the City and have lived in New York practically my entire life, but I had never been to the stoop that brought me to the courthouse that morning.

So I jumped on the subway and headed to 66 Perry Street.

Here was the crowd in front of the townhouse at noon on a random, cold Tuesday in January.

Here are close-ups of the signage on the stoop's chain:

Emily Kling

I thought it was such a testament to Barbara's care for her community that the signage was so neighborhood-focused, asking that people be respectful to her neighbors and that those who took pictures donate $1 to help save homeless dogs and cats in NYC.

And then something funny happened.

As I was taking photos of the above signage, a man started filming me at relatively close range.

I asked him to please stop, to which he replied, "Oh, it's for Channel 7."

There was something meta and almost poetic about my own right to privacy being ignored while I was researching a story about someone else's right to privacy. It was as if even being in the general vicinity of this famed townhouse stripped passersby of their autonomy. And worst of all, I wasn't sure I was any different, seeing as I had just taken a photo of strangers myself. Of course, it was much further back, and I blurred out the only visible face, but it did make me feel weird about the whole thing.

So, if you see me on Channel 7, just know that not only did I not consent to be filmed, but I proactively asked not to be.

Is it a big deal? In one sense, not really. I wasn't doing anything I'd regret having memorialized.

But also, in a larger sense, it did feel like a big deal. When did I lose my right to privacy? When did Barbara? When did the people I had photographed myself? I don't have an answer to these questions, but in an increasingly online world, they're worth considering.

I'm so happy that Barbara got her gate approved.

And by the way, I think the women on Sex and the City would want Barbara to have her gate, too. After all, they were New York City women themselves, navigating life in an ever-changing world.

I can't imagine they would stand in the way of another New York woman's right to some peace and privacy.