You don’t have to be a genius to know that starting a retail business in New York is a horrible idea. Naturally, as with all things, there are exceptions to this rule. Rice to Riches, Nolita’s infamous rice-pudding shop, is somehow doing well enough to expand to the Lower East Side. If you open a smoke shop, it might do all right, so long as you also sell drugs out of the back. E-bike repair joints have a steady stream of customers when they’re not burning to the ground. The few remaining specialty stores—places such as Balloon Saloon, the Fountain Pen Hospital, Gramercy Typewriter Company—have charmed their way out of the electric chair, if not exactly off death row.

But even the most useless actuary would advise you against opening a newsstand. New Yorkers have a Thomas Edison–like indefatigability when it comes to bad real-estate deals, but in a city of more than eight million people, it’s telling that nobody lately has been crazy enough to say, “Actually, why not magazines?” (Doesn’t Don’t F**k with Newsstands sound like it’s already a Netflix show?) Go ahead, name one that’s opened in the last five years and is still a going concern—and, yes, “going concern” is the right way to put it. You can’t.

The penny tiling at the entrance to the AIR MAIL Newsstand.

Which brings us to the opening of AIR MAIL’s first New York newsstand. Steeled by the success of our first two locations, Shreeji Newsagents, on London’s Chiltern Street, and Edicola Largo Treves, in Milan, we’re proud, if slightly terrified, to say that we’ve hung out our shingle at 546 Hudson Street, in the West Village.

You see, old habits die hard, and though AIR MAIL doesn’t publish glossies, most of us have at one time or another worked for one. Sure, they aren’t what they used to be, but what is? We believe in the enduring magic of the medium—the charm and easy coolness of something you can roll up, tear apart, and flip through. Magazines say, “I like to read, but I’m not militant about it.”

Not everything has to be a declaration of faith, but it’s no mistake that the first thing you see when you walk into 546 Hudson Street is a wall of magazines that have been selected with the help of Sandeep Garg, the man who keeps Shreeji humming.

Custom shelves featuring items including housewares and AIR MAIL merchandise line the interiors.

It’s a bit of a misnomer to only call it a “newsstand,” though, and watch out if you say the word in front of the doyenne of the place, Anjali Lewis. She’ll have you know that it’s a shop and a café, too. Anjali has earned the right to be specific: she breathed life into the space, dreaming up merchandising plans, hiring staff, and intimidating contractors twice her size into not blowing deadlines.

A leatherbound copy of The Catcher in the Rye, displayed among the vitrines.

Venturing beyond the printed matter, you’ll find a selection of products that qualifies the shop as a sort of modern general store—like our digital storefront, AIR SUPPLY. It may be the only place in Manhattan where you can buy Carl Auböck desk accessories, Master Boddington children’s stationery, Christophe Pourny slippers, and Chez Dede scarves all in one place. There are vintage items from Foundwell—Hermès cuff links and Rolex watches—and enough CBD gummies to make you feel better about spending all that money. Jen Noyes is to thank for the superb mix of products, which she selected with the help of Lilly Schoenbaum.

For AIR MAIL merchandise devotees, 546 Hudson Street will be a mecca. You can get store-exclusive hats, totes, blankets, and enamel pins—one of which, I’m proud to say, is adorned with the title “Janitor” in my honor. On the branded front, there’s also an item that’s not for sale: a 10-foot-long poster for the 1932 John Ford film Air Mail, a generous donation from our friend Josh Sapan.

Lapel pins nod to AIR MAIL staffers’ lingo and inside jokes.

In the back of the store, a small, themed selection of books will rotate seasonally, scrupulously curated by our Co-Editors, Graydon Carter and Alessandra Stanley, and Deputy Editor Julia Vitale. The launch theme is “Women’s Classics, Past and Present” and includes work by everyone from Anita Loos to Dorothy Parker to Rachel Kushner. We also proudly hold the distinction of being one of the few U.S.-based retailers of Persephone Books, the Bath, England, publisher who swaddles out-of-print gems in handsome dove gray.

A coffee bar inside the Newsstand is operated by AIR MAIL’s longtime partner Flying Coffee.

Even more important to us than what’s on the shelves, though, is that 546 Hudson Street promote a sense of community. (Its last known use was as a delicatessen, and locals thought it was going to become a FedEx until they saw how nicely the build-out was shaping up.) There’s plenty of room to read and gossip, from a coffee bar—operated by our longtime partner Flying Coffee—to a library table and a cobblestone courtyard in back. People, after all, are the lifeblood of any print-related enterprise.

The shop is lucky to have talented salespeople who come from Gucci, Mulberry, and J. Crew. Sonny Gindi and Eden Melloul, of Stour, are the operators and will be responsible for making the trains run on time. The peerless Basil Walter, founder of BWArchitects, designed the store with the heroic help of José Abreu. And none of it would have been possible without AIR MAIL’s Creative Director, Angela Panichi, who designed every graphic, oversaw the window display, and ensured that the store looked like an issue of Air Mail as much as it felt like one.

A library table encourages visitors to sit back, enjoy a coffee, and read one of the magazines or books for sale in the Newsstand.

Yes, newsstands need people—especially the rhythmic buzz of neighborhood folk—to survive. And that’s why we do hope you’ll stop by and pay a visit. After all, if this lark doesn’t work out, we’re going to need someone to blame.

Nathan King is a Deputy Editor at AIR MAIL