I was 13 years old the first time I visited New York City. It was 2005 and I had an unhealthy obsession for everything rap-related, including 50 Cent's group G-Unit. I was on such a deranged quest to acquire as much rap knowledge and experience as possible that I dragged my mom across the city to find the stores that carried their eponymous clothing line in hopes of scoring a couple of pieces.

At that time, my knowledge of the US and New York was faint. Everything I knew about the so-called Big Apple came from popular TV, rap music, and my basketball coach, who, on the commute to every away game, would educate me on Rucker Park and its legends, Old Dirty Bastard, and the overall state of hip hop at the time. I listened attentively as he hit the clanky buttons of the AV system on his navy blue Volkswagen Polo in search of the next best track to unpack for me.

Back then, English wasn’t exactly my strongest suit. However, I savored the convoluted lyrics rolling out of the mouths of these urban poets as if they were my mother tongue. Wu-Tang Clan, Run DMC, Notorious B.I.G, Public Enemy, and Mobb Deep blasted in succession through the strung-out speakers of that car, narrating tales of a lifestyle that couldn’t possibly be farther away from my own—an Italian pre-teen who grew up in the middle of nowhere, shielded from crime, violence, and the gangster chronicles that kept me glued to my family’s first computer.

My desire to see the iconic graffiti decorating New York’s trains and admire its never-ending skyscrapers consumed me. I spent my lunch break jumping back and forth between MTV and VIVA (a poor man’s European version of the former) hoping to catch the music videos that would grant me a glimpse of my American dream. Ahead of my middle school graduation, after begging for months, my parents finally caved and organized a trip to the United States.

What an electrifying feeling, to step off a long-haul flight and feel the air of a destination I longed for caress my skin for the first time.

Fast forward to today—20 years later—and here I am, splitting my time between my home in Sicily and New York City. Who would have thought that I would eventually fall in love, find my space in Gotham, contribute to the city’s economy, and create a sturdy network of friends and collaborators—some of whom you will have a chance to learn about on the digital pages of this first issue of NONSENSE.

Building an editorial space of my own, following my aesthetic direction and storytelling rules, had been a dream of mine for a long time. I learned it’s no easy accomplishment, and maybe that’s why so many independent publishers struggle to keep the lights on. But there are way too many remarkable individuals who never get to tell their story because they are not trendy or controversial enough, or simply do not fit the mold of what makes for a “good” headline for me not to try. NONSENSE strives to become their stage.

Bringing this issue—and this whole business, to be frank—to life was a challenge. From idea to execution, it took us almost two years. Not because we lacked skills or ideas but, rather, because we had too many. Refining the identity, polishing the words, and writing the code while servicing clients, running systemarosa, and creating RISERVE meant a slower pace in building their home. At long last, here we are.

In ISSUE 0, we ran around the city interviewing old friends and making new ones. We sat down with an accidental baker (Caitlin Hubner); we chopped it up with a multifaceted artist petite in stature, big in personality (Melinda Griffith); we learned the secrets behind Greenpoint’s best pizza (Mike Bancale); we got intimate with a Swiss-Chilean director who found herself in the Hispanic community of Sunset Park (Laura Gauch) and we discussed the power of football with a photographer (Mateo Arcineagas Huerta) whose long term documentary project provided a sense of home. But these are only a few of the many remarkable people we encountered in the making of this debut edition. Together, they are what make New York City the thrilling place I dreamed of as a young girl.

Please take your time to read their stories, familiarize yourself with them and share them with your friends. This will be their home for the next six months.

Enjoy!

Yours truly,
Naomi Accardi