A Definitive Ranking of New York City’s Targets
The Manhattan Targets are lies.
One name reigns supreme in the world of one-stop-shops in the United States: Target. Forget Walmart and Kmart. Target is the ultimate superstore in modern suburban America.
There are more than 1,800 Target stores in the U.S., and if you’ve ever been inside of one, you know that they’re all identical. Walking into a Target is like going into the space outside of time at the end of Interstellar, except instead of endless bookshelves and versions of your daughter, you’re surrounded by great deals.
When I moved to the city, I was excited to find out that a Target was opening up in Tribeca. Upon entering, I felt a chill in the air. This was not the same universal Target which exists in a quantum realm of similarity. There was an upper level with women’s wear and a bougie Chobani cafe. And it felt wrong.
I was disappointed by this alien Target, but I got a cute jacket for two dollars, a few groceries, and then left. The next summer, another Target opened on Herald Square. It is also bad. I was worried that my fellow New Yorkers would never know the joy of the greatest American invention.
So, this week I went on a journey throughout this city of ours, and scouted every single Target so we can know which ones to avoid. And to stay relevant with the kids, I’ve arranged them into a Tier List like this is Super Smash Bros.
Low Tier: Tribeca & Herald Square
These don’t even deserve pictures, but I have them anyway. The original heretic and the Herald Square monster. These Targets bring you into the depths of the Earth to shop, but they have bougie upstairs???
The problem with these is that they’re not Targets. They don’t have the same energy as the giant blocks of concrete with the big red balls in the front. All the branding, none of the soul.
Mid Tier: StuyTown & Lower East Side
The Target right below the 14th Street Loop of StuyTown is mostly above Low Tier purely based on location. I despise the Herald Square Target mostly because it exists in Hell on Earth aka Herald Square. So while StuyTown is a near identical store, the fact it’s not next to the worst tourist trap in the city is a huge plus.
It has escalators leading down to the secret underground Target, but the upper level/lower level split makes a bit more sense. The upstairs is basically a Duane Reade, with the rest of the things that make Target Target being downstairs.
The Lower East Side location … is actually a real Target?
It doesn’t look like one from the outside. It’s got an escalator leading up to it, sharing its entrance with a Trader Joe’s. After entering through a space with no sliding doors (a con for sure), there’s a pretty normal Target waiting for you. Sure, there’s exposed piping in the roof and dark concrete for the floor, but it’s Manhattan — every store has that now.
God Tier: Bronx & East Harlem
These are my home Targets now, and I don’t have pictures of them. But they look like every other normal Target. They are a space outside of all creation which exists only for those brave enough to pass through the two sets of sliding doors.
The East Harlem store is adjacent to the Costco (I know it’s wild that there’s a Costco on the island of Manhattan, but that’s another story). I don’t have much else to say. It’s a Target.
THE BRONX TERMINAL TARGET IS THE SAME EXACT TARGET FROM MY HOME MALL IN MIDDLETOWN, NEW YORK.
This is not a goof. The only difference between the Target in the Middletown Galleria in the Hudson Valley and the Target in the Bronx is that the Bronx one is 40 feet in the sky, above a Home Depot.
It has everything you’re looking for, in the exact location you expect it. Respect the Target. Bronx Terminal Market is great in general, and its Target does not disappoint.
(I know that I didn’t mention the one in Downtown Brooklyn, I went there once during a depressive episode after spending my last $15 to watch Logan at the Alamo Draft House. It’s special to me, and I’m not ready to share it with the blog.)
[Writer’s Note: My editor Izzie said she didn’t know what DoBro was, it’s Downtown Brooklyn, and now I feel like a douche].
