For our community, the pandemic was an inflection point in the latent sense of disconnection that had been simmering for a generation. We awoke from the fever dream of Covid to find that the city had transformed around us, offering no shortage of trendy spaces to photograph a perfect matcha latte or sip a $25 dirty martini. But amid this abundance of surface-level experiences, basic needs were being overlooked. We lacked spaces to be together organically, parallel playing the games of our lives, building the relationships that bond over seasons.

We built Index to meet these needs, creating a space that bridges the personal and the collective. Situated on an island within an island — a triangle intersecting Little Italy, Chinatown, and Tribeca — Index was designed not by corporate executives speculating on the needs of a hypothetical user base, but by us, members of the community we sought to serve. We focused on what we knew would be both essential and joyful: a workspace that made up the gaps opened by remote work culture, with comfortable areas for focus and calls, a communal dining space, and a venue for events that could host hundreds of guests.

Our space was designed to be a vessel, or a carrying bag, expanding, contracting, and adapting its form to hold what its members bring inside. There are no logos on the walls, no branded mugs in the kitchen. We are not selling you affiliation or clout. Our roster of members isn’t part of the marketing plan. When you sign up to join us, you’re signing up for a space to use as you need it.