There is no there in silicon Alley. If the workspace is too tightly defined, it gets in the way of the creative process. When immigrants came to America a century ago, most of them probably felt as badly dressed, clueless, and self-conscious as I did that afternoon. Today, it's no different.
Young people know more than their parents about the Internet.
Chances are they were about eight years old in 1984 when Apple launched the first Mac. And though many start-ups still emulate suburban garages, complete with basketball hoops, bicycles, and metal doors, more established ones tend to resemble airports, with soaring perspectives, suspended mezzanines, and exposed trusses. But whether rudimentary garages or sophisticated hangars, Internet-based offices always feel like gateways points of entry into virtuality. The truth is, these new-economy workplaces don't have a common aesthetic or even a common neighborhood. Absence of visual definition was also the trademark of Silicon Valley in the early 1980s, when the only indication of the coming boom was the growing number and size of the sprawling parking lots.