They're everywhere. Like rats, they are. The Big Apple? Sure, didn't we only build New York city? The City Of Blinding Lights.

The Ultimate Survivor. We've always been happy to claim NYC as our own. Come to think of it, you've probably been reading this article for years: The Irish in New York . . . Sure Aren't We Only Fabulous?

In 2006 there's nothing special whatsoever about being Irish in the world's most iconic city, a multicultural melting pot beyond compare. Or is there? 9/11 redefined absolutely everything. Everything. It initiated a defining shift in the momentum of the Irish in this town. A lot of long-term immigrants made plans to move back home. Plenty of those planning to work illegally had to reconsider their options, thanks to Homeland Security measures that meant you didn't get in . . . or out . . . of the US anymore without some potentially serious repercussions.

Procuring a Visa is tougher than ever, and the lottery system isn't what it used to be. The Irish dynamic had already begun to change, however. We're a generation on. Immigration's still an option, but it's far from the only one anymore. We're talking about a dramatically different state of affairs to that of even a decade ago.

People don't come here anymore just to make a few quid . . . you can do that at home. They come here to make their careers. To go for it big time. The American Dream, believe it or not, still exists. Yes, it's been co-opted, defaced and debased by a bunch of very scary people . . . some of whom happen to run the country . . . but the principle remains intact. If you can make it here, you'll make it anywhere and all that. And the spirit remains strong.

They tried to bring the Big Apple to its knees, after all, on 11 September, 2001, and the city was reborn instead. Some say it's been reinvigorated, others think the colour's been drained out of the place. Whichever way you choose to perceive it, the fact is that a city once considered the most dangerous urban landscape on the planet feels pretty damn safe these days.

You'd feel a lot more secure wandering through Hell's Kitchen . . . they call it Clinton these days . . . at 2am than you might having a stroll down, ooh, Thomas Street, for starters.

That said, New York is still a spectacularly messed-up, schizophrenic, hyperactive mess. One that works its innumerable contractions beautifully. Long may it remain so.

But what about these new Irish in the new New York? By and large, we're talking about a generation of motivated, purposeful and creative grafters. They work hard, they play hard . . . but mostly, they work hard. There's a lot to play for, after all. But you have to earn it. "People still perceive that there's a better quality of life to be had here, " says Dubliner Susan Towers, vice president of global communication for cosmetics behemoth Kiehls and a New York resident for almost two decades, "but you'll always get a better work/life mix in Ireland. It might not seem like it, but it's a fact. In New York, you've always got to put the work first. Always. Ireland's developed at an incredible rate, but if you want to work on a truly global canvas, you have to be here. And you have to work your butt off."

So . . . who's making it big in New York city in 2006? We questioned a choice selection of Bright Young Thingsf The Ubiquitous Presence Lisa Gilligan probably isn't coming home. Don't take it too personally, mind. "Never. Why would I? How could I? There wouldn't be a point, " says the Cork-born swimwear designer.

"Maybe if I was in IT or engineering, but in the garment industry, the work I do at the level I'm doing it on just doesn't exist in Ireland right now. I'd be working on a much smaller scale, on a much smaller salary. I'm way too used to my home comforts."

Gilligan's chic, sharp designs for clothing giant Zero Xposure can be found in thousands of major retail outlets, from Sears and JC Penny to Wal-Mart, across the US.

She landed in NYC over a decade ago on a Morrison visa, knocking on doors, portfolio in tow, doggedly pursuing her design ambitions. "It took me a long time to integrate, " she says.

"I suppose it's very easy to take the high road when you're European . . . sure, Ireland's economy was in rough shape when I came over, but we still had our basic needs taken care of. There are other immigrants who land here with nothing, literally nothing, and they have a thirst to make something of themselvesf And they make it happen."

While the People's Republic remains dear to her heart, home for Gilligan is a stylish apartment in downtown Jersey City. "It's been years of hard graft, endless amount of grief and hassle and heartbreak, but you put up with it, because in the end you're doing a job that you really love. And I wouldn't swap what I do for the world."

The Artist "It's what I've worked toward, " says artist Paul Rowley. "Being able to live here in New York and still be in Dublin at the same time. It's wonderful. I really don't think I could do New York all year round . . . I think I'd lose my mind. It's way too mentalf" Rowley is one of the most exciting young Irish artists of the moment, a winner of the Glen Dimplex Award in 2000 for his challenging, elaborate video creations. He spends his average year juggling projects on both sides of the pond; currently, he's in NYC developing a collaborative project with acclaimed classical musician Emily Manzo . . . when he's not back in Ireland filming an elaborate documentary about refugees at the former Mosney holiday camp.

Thanks to a combination of cheaper airfares and massive leaps in communication technologies, he's able to juggle projects on both sides of the Atlantic . . . the concept of 'home' remains somewhat of an abstract concept. "Even though I spend so much of the year in New York, " he says, "there's a big part of me that still feels like a tourist here . . . like I live in Dublin and I'm only here on a J-1.

"It's always inspiring . . . you're exposed to such a huge variety of people doing different kinds of art, you have this great sense of community, the scene here is so vibrant, so alive. It's wonderful to be surrounded by such variety of work. That said, Dublin is a still a huge part of who I am, and what I do. I feel like I get the best of both worlds."

The Graphic Guru "People here know what they want, and they're going to get it. I know that's how I felt when I got here. You do whatever it takes . . . within reason, I'd like to reassure my mother."

Vmagazine is New York's ultimate style bible, and possibly the most utterly fabulous publication on the planet . . . Dubliner Aoife Wasser is its associate art director.

Wasser defines the graphic identity of V's parent company, Visionaire, and its extended line of chi-chi publications, as well as working with the best . . . the very best . . . photographers and designers in the business on big design jobs aplenty.

Wasser landed in New York directly after graduating from Mountjoy Square's College of Marketing And Design. "I'm here because I have a bigger choice when it comes to the work I want to do, and where I want to do it. New York is the city for design. You get to collaborate with the best. You can literally pick a designer than you studied in college, go up to their office, knock on the door and say, 'Hey, do you need anybody? Can I do an internship here?' And they say yes or no."

Success at the cutting-edge can come at a price . . . long hours and far-from-spectacular wages are the norm, and New York living doesn't come cheap. Wasser has found it difficult at times, and it doesn't necessarily get any easier:

"When you're a designer trying to build a portfolio and do good work, people won't pay . . . the experience you're getting is the reward.

"So you have to make that choice, early on . . . do you want to go for the money, or do you want to do amazing work? I've been doing amazing work for four years. Now I want the money!"

The Brainiac The past five years of Shane Naughton's life have been about one thing . . . hard graft. From modest beginnings, his TaxStream company . . . providing corporate tax provision and planning software . . . now employs 35 people from its Hoboken, New Jersey offices, and the product is enjoying ever-increasing prominence in the US marketplace.

As if that didn't keep him busy enough, he's also the chair of the Trinity College Alumni Association in New York (not to mention being on the board of trustees for the US Trinity Fund) and an active fundraiser for Concern. Oh . . .

he likes to run marathons, too. "In the bigger scheme of things, " he says, "the Irish community here is still very small, and pretty tight. We look after each other. There's a lot of goodwill, and people are essentially very helpful and open.

If you're young, Irish and educated in New York, the world's basically your oyster."

As Ireland's short-lived internet boom went kaput in the late '90s, Naughton hit the ground running stateside . . . and hasn't looked back since. That said, he gets to spend several weeks a year in his native Athlone, and still hopes to eventually settle there. Right now, however, there's a lot more work to be done.

"I see a lot of young college graduates coming through, " he says. "They see the opportunities here . . . not that there aren't opportunities at home, more opportunities than ever . . . but when you're young, and you have time and energy to give, you can climb the ladder a lot quicker here. The money is always relative to the effort you're willing to put in. That's the thing . . . there is no absolute. If you get on the right ladder, the sky's the limit. And that's always going to be attractive for Irish people."

The Visionary "Honestly, since I came here, I haven't known that many Irish people . . . it's not deliberate or anything, I just don't get to meet them." Filmmaker Lena Beug has been keeping busy, so that's more than understandable. Over the past few months, since Lena left her position with MTV in New York . . . where she spent the best part of the last decade, creating many of the channel's most iconic promos . . . the tireless Corkonian has hit the ground running with a series of high-profile commercial gigs.

Even today, she's borrowing our laptop to download some post-production footage of an ad she just shot in Canada, while simultaneously talking up a storm . . . she's got multitasking down to an art form. Then there's that gift of the gab: "Never underestimate the power of being sociable, " she says, "simply being able to chat to people . . . they love that here. The Irish are good communicators; we tend to enjoy other people. We're naturally good at it. Back that up with a decent amount of ability, and you're well on your way."

Beug (who, rather ironically, grew up without a television in her house) is swiftly ascending the ranks of her chosen profession . . . most recently bagging a Best New International Director gong at the Shark Awards, the Irish broadcasting advertising Oscars.

Next up? A move into motion pictures. She's got agents lining up work on both sides of the pond, but Lena acknowledges that New York has been the making of her, professionally. "People are more willing to take a risk on you here. If you truly want to make it happen here, you can make it happen. You have no excuse. I honestly believe that. If you have the staying power, and the neck, and you truly go for it, it's all there for the taking."