• Rom-coms like "When Harry Met Sally" exemplify how the urban built environment can spark romance.
• Two New York City-based urban planners are using that lesson to promote "romantic urbanism."
• Their tongue-in-cheek event in Brooklyn asked: What if we had a City Department of Tenderness?

Netflix's latest holiday rom-com, "Hot Frosty," begins like this: A lonely young widow named Kathy hangs a magical scarf on a snowman in the public square of her idyllic fictional New York town. The snowman comes to life and happens to have a flowing head of hair and a chiseled physique, and is named, you guessed it, Jack. He and Kathy promptly engage in heart-warming hijinks and fall in love.

While the film gets originality points for romanticizing a snowman, it follows the classic holiday rom-com movie formula, which includes, as Bloomberg's Linda Poon has written, an adorable, walkable small town. The town center is the picture of a "5-minute city," with daily amenities clustered together, and plays a key role in facilitating Kathy and Jack's romance. Without it, Kathy never would have stumbled upon Jack in snow form.

The crucial role that well-designed urban environments play in rom-coms struck Daphne Lundi and Louise Yeung — New York City urban planners and neighbors — when they spent the early days of the pandemic lockdown watching movies in each other's apartments.

In the wake of the pandemic — that trapped many in their homes and ushered in widespread remote work and skyrocketing housing costs — urbanists like Lundi and Yeung are increasingly urging policymakers to counteract isolation through design.

Sparks flew in "third places" like art galleries and parks in "Rye Lane" and at urban landmarks like the Empire State Building in "Sleepless in Seattle." Paris is a character of its own in "Amelie," and the titular small town is a star of "Fire Island," they noticed.

Harry wouldn't have met Sally without a Manhattan bookstore. In "Notting Hill," the London neighborhood is a central character in the romance between a famous Hollywood actor and a bookshop owner. In some cases — think "Sex and the City" and "Emily in Paris" — the characters are in love with the city itself.

Lundi and Yeung realized that in those romantic fantasies, a walkable urban landscape brings people together who might not otherwise cross paths — and lets them linger. They took that as motivation for how to make real-life cities and towns better for lovers or anyone looking to make new connections.

Lundi and Yeung first wrote about their theory in a 2023 essay called "Romantic Urbanism." But the essay has since transformed into something bigger — a call for submissions including design proposals and public events. As policymakers, they're tasked with building affordable housing, creating safe public spaces and accessible transit, and creating jobs. But despite their centrality to quality of life, love, intimacy, and connection aren't policy goals, Yeung told Business Insider.

So they're asking: "How can cities actually be designed to express care, to foster care? What does that care infrastructure actually look like in practice?" she said.

"We need to make spaces for people to be incentivized and for people to want to go out and hang out with each other," said Clio Andris, a professor of city and regional planning and interactive computing at Georgia Tech who's studied how urban design impacts romantic relationships.

A City 'Department of Tenderness'

On a warm, perfectly sunny day in late October, Lundi and Yeung hosted their first public event showcasing their ideas for a more romance-friendly city — the inaugural meeting of what they're cheekily calling the New York City Department of Tenderness — on a small car-free plaza in Brooklyn.

The event featured several proposals from Schuyler deVos, a creative technologist and web developer, including a presentation on a Brooklyn-Queens train line called the "V line" (Valentine's line) designed to help those in "long-distance" inter-borough relationships.

Henry McKenzie, who stopped by the presentation, said a cross-borough train line spoke to him.

"Every time you're on the train for more than an hour to see someone, that is an expression of love," he said. He'd also like more free or affordable third spaces where he could gather with his Dungeons & Dragons group, whose members are scattered across the city.

Trey Shaffer, a 25-year-old computer programmer from Long Island City who volunteered at the event, said he finds the pedestrian walkways on New York's bridges to be especially romantic places. "We need more Brooklyn Bridges," he said. "We can just make a copy, like, right next to it."

A city built for romance benefits all kinds of other relationships, too. Lively street corners, safe and accessible third spaces, and affordable housing help familial bonds, friendships, and even loose ties between neighbors and coworkers.

McKenzie's friend Sarah Dolan said that she tends to socialize exclusively with people she already knows in part because of a dearth of communal spaces. "There's not that many opportunities to meet new people, unless you really seek it out," she said.

Lundi and Yeung say they were overwhelmed with the response they've gotten to the project, which has received about 80 submissions, including essays and event proposals. One person wrote about their experience developing relationships while riding New York's paratransit service for people with disabilities. Another is exploring corner bodegas as "care infrastructure."

They hope the project will inspire more urban planners and policymakers to consider fostering human connection and relationships as a core part of their work and make real-world cities more like those in the movies.

"There's this trope of city people as being hardened and hard," Lundi said. "As a New Yorker, part of what this has shown me is that we're actually really tender."

• The last meatpackers in NYC's Meatpacking District are getting ready to close shop.
• Last month, NYC's mayor announced plans to develop the site near Greenwich Village and the High Line.
• Once a meat industry hub, the district now hosts luxury brands and nightlife venues.

The era of New York City's Meatpacking District as a neighborhood where people actually pack meat is coming to an end.

Late last month, New York City Mayor Eric Adams unveiled plans to redevelop the district's last operating meat market after its tenants accepted a deal from the city to move out — and in the market's place could come a 60-story tower.

Once brimming with hundreds of butchers, slaughterhouses, and packing plants, the Manhattan neighborhood now has only a handful of meatpackers left, and they're preparing to close up shop, the Associated Press reported this week in a retrospective looking back at the district.

Under the city's plan, the 66,000-square-foot Gansevoort Market would become Gansevoort Square, which, according to the mayor's office, would feature 600 mixed-income housing units, a new open pavilion, and a culture and arts hub.

And a New York state senator said there's a plan to build a 60-story skyscraper in the area — something a local historic preservation group said was out of scale for a neighborhood with mostly low-rise buildings.

The city hasn't confirmed the plans referenced by State Sen. Brad Hoylman-Sigal in a recent email newsletter he sent to constituents. The community group Village Preservation said Monday that a tower plan would likely be formally announced at an upcoming neighborhood Community Board meeting.

A building that tall would dramatically alter the neighborhood's skyline, where the current tallest structure, The Standard Hotel, is 19 stories tall. The mayor's office didn't immediately return a request for comment on the possible skyscraper development.

Meanwhile, though an eviction date has not yet been set for the building's meatpacking tenants, they're getting ready to say goodbye.

One of them is 68-year-old John Jobbagy, whose connection to the district goes back more than 120 years. His grandfather started butchering there after immigrating from Budapest in 1900, the AP reported.

Back then, the Meatpacking District looked — and smelled — a lot different from today, where high-end retailers like Gucci and Rolex now line the streets alongside cocktail bars, clubs, and luxury apartment buildings. In 2025, high-end French crystal company Baccarat is moving into the neighborhood, Women's Wear Daily first reported this month.

"I'll be here when this building closes, when everybody, you know, moves on to something else," Jobbagy told the AP. "And I'm glad I was part of it, and I didn't leave before."

Jobbagy told the AP that he started working for his father in the area in the late 1960s, at a time when chicken juices dribbled into the streets, and workers relied on whiskey to keep themselves warm in the refrigerated lockers.

Jobbagy later opened his own business there, which he's held onto as the neighborhood changed over the years, the AP reported.

The neighborhood became a gritty nightlife and sex club scene in the 1970s and, by the early 2000s, a hip, up-and-coming area where "Sex and the City's" Samantha Jones chose to live amid sex workers, leather bars, and an incoming Pottery Barn.

In 2009, the railway that once transported millions of tons of meat, dairy, and produce through the district was turned into a public park, the High Line.

But Jobbagy told local outlet amNY he isn't too broken up about leaving the neighborhood that would now be unrecognizable to his father or grandfather.

"It's been a long time coming," Jobbagy told amNY. "The transformations have been taking place for the last 20 years. We're well aware there are far better uses for this property than an aging meat warehouse. I'm not really sad at all."

Change has always been part of the district's DNA, and New York City's.

"It wasn't always a meatpacking district," Andrew Berman, the executive director at historic preservation group Village Preservation, told the AP. "It was a sort of wholesale produce district before that, and it was a shipping district before that." In the early 1800s, it became home to a military fort, built there over fears that the British would invade during the War of 1812.

"So it's had many lives, and it's going to continue to have new lives," Berman told the AP.