When Isabella Epstein moved to the West Village in 2021, no “Sex and the City”-style gaggle of gal pals awaited her arrival.
At 23, the Connecticut girl — new to NYC after snagging a prime investment banker gig — found herself unhappily alone, even approaching random folks on the street in search of companionship.
This past winter, the sad singleton decided to take drastic action — she tossed her ego aside, took to social media and began inviting perfect strangers to dinner. Within months, she’d metamorphosed into a social butterfly.
“I started making reservations at different places around the city and inviting people on TikTok,” Epstein, now 25, tells The Post.
Her viral invites to Big Apple hot spots like Grand Banks and Temperance Wine Bar, as well as to concerts and picnics in Bryant Part, have garnered interest from thousands online. In the process, Epstein said she’s found the friends group she always wanted.
“I’d spent years suffering from loneliness,” she said. “But I’ve met some of my best friends through this community I’ve built — none of us are alone anymore.”
Epstein may have found a way out, but isolation continues to plague countless other Gen Z’s — in Gotham and beyond.
Recent research published by the New York City Department of Health and Mental Hygiene found that residents ages 18 to 24 experience the highest rates of “serious psychological distress,” or SPD, in the Big Apple.
And the mental anguish is severely endemic in young adults who lack supportive social ties.
“The prevalence of SPD was lower among New Yorkers who felt they belonged to a community compared with those who did not (12% vs. 26%),” read the report.
And the adverse effects of alienation aren’t limited by political boundaries. Globally, the affliction of friendlessness, or “the alone virus,” has been deemed a “pressing health threat” — with risks as deadly as smoking up to 15 cigarettes a day — by the World Health Organization.
Here at home, Epstein is one of many cityside camaraderie curators who’ve taken control of their social lives, launching clubs, cliques and even niche apps to combat the loneliness curse in the concrete jungle.
Here are some of the ways these local trailblazers are creating connections.
West Side Highway Run Club
With loneliness running amok amongst the city’s single set, Steve Cole kickstarted the West Side Highway Run Club in an effort to stomp out the plague.
“I host a three-mile singles run every Wednesday,” Cole, 28, told The Post, adding that his group has garnered over 400 runners in the eight weeks since its early May launch. The collection of hoofers at Pier 45 at 6:45 p.m. to kick off their midweek dashes.
“Afterwards, we do a fun mixer called ‘#BeersAfter’ at a nearby bar,” the millennial continued. “That’s when everyone’s able to connect and make dates.”
Pounding the pavement in the name of love constituted as a “breath of fresh air” alternative to stale dating sites, said the native Californian, who recently migrated to TriBeCa.
After months of unsuccessfully swiping through the apps in search of “the one,” Cole endeavored to curate in-person gatherings aimed at bringing like-minded Manhattanites together — and burning a few calories.
“It’s been determined that 46% of Gen Zs and millennials have gone on a first date that includes exercise,” said Cole, citing an April 2023 Bumble survey. “Run clubs are a really great way to organically meet runners in your area.”
Cole founded the Lunge matchmaking app, which helps wannabe lovebirds find potential matches at local gyms — and he’s run into some luck in love himself, thanks to the weekly sweat sessions.
“Finding someone special is a top priority for me now,” he confessed. “I met a really awesome girl. We met Wednesday, went out Friday. It’s exciting.”
Kndrd “hangout” Club
Although social media proved to be a viable megaphone for calling forth new friends from all corners of the city, Epstein wanted more.
So the Gen Zer, alongside cofounders Tina and Milo, launched “spontaneous hangouts” app, Kndrd, in May. The weeks-old platform permits users to invite others subscribers to join them for friendly meetups throughout the boroughs.
“My life’s work has become combating loneliness and facilitating in-person interactions for everyone,” said Epstein, who ditched her work in finance to enlarge her bond-building
“And it’s been such a blessing to begin helping solve that problem for the world at large.”
Cookbook Club
Preparing dinner for one every night was beginning to leave a bad taste in Ryan Nordheimer’s mouth.
But rather than just sucking it up, the Gen Z sought out a community of fellow foodies, chefs and bakers in his much beloved “cookbook club.”
“Each month we agree on a cookbook that relates to the time of year, we each select a recipe to follow and then meet up to taste each other’s dishes,” said Nordheimer, 24, a health management specialist and food influencer. “It’s great meeting people who love cooking and eating like me.”
Nordheimer joined the club, founded by Stephanie Lau, in March, hoping to blend into NYC’s cuisine scene after uprooting from his hometown of Bethesda, Maryland in April 2023.
“Connecting with like-minded people online just wasn’t enough,” Nordheimer told The Post. “Joining Cookbook Club gives me the opportunity to really get to know other content creators and at-home cooks
“I look forward to it, and recommend it to anyone hoping to find friends with a shared love of food.”
Recess Kickball League
Isolation due to the pandemic was “really rough” for Emmanuel Maduakolam.
Like many New Yorkers whose mental health waned during lockdown, the Brooklynite felt trapped in a seemingly endless spiral of solitude, socially distant from his family, fiancée and friends.
But in June 2020, he and pals Christoper Thomas, Cris Jones, Daemon Krueger and Ermias Tessema decided to kick it — literally.
“We just hit the park one day and told a few close friends,” said Maduakolam, 35, co-founder of Recess Kickball League. The Crown Heights-based league is a BIPOC-, LGBTQ-inclusive band of working professionals with childlike affinities for the schoolyard sport.
“By the end of that summer,” continued Maduakolam, a NYC transplant from Irvington, New Jersey, “more than 40 people came [out to play] — I didn’t know half of them.”
Thomas, 37, tells The Post their kickball club has since metastasized from a few nearby neighbors into a bi-coastal collection of 14 teams comprised of over 220 players in New York and California.
“Kickball is a shared activity where folks can build genuine connections without any awkwardness,” said Thomas. He and his cohorts manage the nationwide league as start-up creative agency Glasses Global LLC.
“Right now, the world feels like it is on fire,” added Thomas. “But it’s been so rewarding to know that the league has helped people find an extended family through [the love of game].”
Chess Forum Club
The Chess Forum in Greenwich Village is more than a mere house of play.
To Imad Khachan, it’s where he’s created a “family” of newfound friends.
“Within the Chess Forum community, we’ve seen first dates and proposals — we’re are getting ready to hold a wedding ceremony here,” Khachan, 59, from Lebanon, tells The Post. “Many of the older players have no family. So we are their family.”
He launched the chess-centric club in 1995, shortly after relocating to the US, hoping to ignite a fire of interpersonal connections around the beloved pastime. And for a $5 per hour fee, grandmasters to greenhorns have bonded across the Thompson Street shop’s 12 game boards for nearly three decades.
“For an hour or more, anyone can escape the rat race and come in with a friend they know or make a friend they haven’t met yet,” said Khachan, adding that the hangout is a gesture of gratitude to a city that’s made him feel right at home.
“Chess Forum is a simple and sincere thank you note to New York and its wonderful people.”
