Copley Plaza Lights

It's after work. You've shopped for gifts and necessities at two CVS's, one organic supermarket, Filene's Basement, and Borders. You are carrying heavy bags up Dartmouth. You almost don't notice the lights of the Copley Plaza, and even when you do, your hands are too cold to stand still and take a picture that isn't blurry. But you try anyway. Happy Holiday shopping!

Tina Frey's Necklace Is Not in My Dresser

My favorite necklace has six beads and lives at the ICA online store. It will not be coming home with me because it costs $245.00 (non-member) or $220.50 (member). If money was no object. If objects were no money. If no money was red opaque handcrafted resin beads in the shape of a special, very expensive candy whose parents were a jelly bean and a lifesaver.



















Could the grandparents to my fantasy necklace be this vintage acrylic toy for $75? (At that price, six of them would be even more expensive than the ICA candy.) Mine were red, naturally, and called Click Clacks, but as you can see, these are Ka-Nockers. The toy had a dangerous reputation. I heard they were taken off the market because some people used them as weapons. I pictured somebody's head getting clacked and hid mine away from the neighborhood bully named Mackie.


It didn't take me long to find a cousin to my necklace on Etsy. Less high end. More affordable. (Although it's sold out.) This opaque frosted resin bead necklace from Epheriell's shop. Now that's sweet!

Mayle excerpt: Up the Agency

After reading Peter Mayle's "The Vintage Caper" (see yesterday's post), I discovered that he started in advertising first as a copywriter, and left 15 years later as a reluctant executive, according to PeterMayle.com. His nonfiction is just as cheeky as his fiction. See for yourself. From the "Look Inside" feature on Amazon, the opening paragraph of "Up the Agency":

"Advertising has been variously described as an art, a profession, a sinister instrument of mass persuasion, and a ludicrous waste of money. It hovers on the fringes of big business and show business, of sports and politics, of sleaze and respectability all at once. It is impossible to ignore, and yet most people deny that they are influenced by it. Sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn't. In either case, conclusive proof is hard to come by because of all the other elements involved in persuading millions of people to make a particular choice. It is this—the delightfully imprecise nature of advertising—that makes it such a happy hunting ground for the articulate young person who is convinced he or she has a great idea. Maybe it is indeed a great idea, or maybe it is a piece of twaddle artfully presented, but who's to know? There are no foolproof methods of judging, no truly reliable methods of prediction, no guarantees of success. It's a funny business."

—Peter Mayle, Up the Agency: The Funny Business of Advertising

BCBG Mayle: "The Vintage Caper"

Never mind that The Vintage Caper is light on caper (spoiler alert: freelance insurance investigator Sam Levitt steals back $2.3 million worth of stolen wine), completely lacks suspense (no one stops him), and except for the fingerprints on the bottles, neither the crime, nor its motive, is ever verified (Can you tell I'm rereading Sherlock Holmes, the master of the scientific investigation?). Because that's not why I read Mayle. Over the rainy Thanksgiving weekend in Bar Harbor, I rushed through the copy left behind by my oenophile uncle, before my stepfather could get his hands on it! Why? For the well-researched, humorous travelogue style Mayle trademarked in his breakout memoir of 1989: A Year in Provence — cheeky insidery descriptions of all pleasures French: wine, food, quirky characters, and glorious locales, preferably in Provence.


Being a white wine drinker, Mayle's wine details were lost on me. But any red wine lover, or curious oenophile, should be spellbound by Sam's visits to several of the great Bordeaux châteaux in search of clues to the stolen bottles from the great vintages of premier cru ("first growth") claret (red blends) ('53 Lafite Rothschild, '61 Latour, '83 Margaux, '82 Figeac, '70 Petrus).

What I will remember from this book is the explanation of the initials BCBG, used to describe Sophie Costes, Sam's French contact from the insurance company. For years, I've seen the fashion label on shoes and clothes, but never known that it meant "bon chic, bon genre," or "good style, good attitude." A term that could easily apply to Mayle: the man who wrote about buying $1,300 hand-built shoes in London for GQ (included in "Acquired Tastes," 1993), the man who sparked the American obsession with the south of France, and who was awarded the Legion D'Honneur in 2002 for his efforts to promote France.

p.s. Another Mayle title on my radar, a book he wrote in 1993, after 15 years as a "Mad Man": "Up the Agency, the Funny Business of Advertising."

Stalking BR military style sweater

After a good five-plus years away, Banana Republic styles and sales are speaking to me again. Visited both Newbury Street and Copley stores maybe ten times last few weeks stalking the black Military cardigan, 100% wool, extra long sleeves, hits at hip, with polished military-inspired buttons and shoulder epaulets. A trend traced to Balanciaga, as far back as AW 05-06, and most commonly epitomized in Balmain's ubiquitous jacket (below) that’s been on all sorts of celebrities. Perfect for a boyish figure like mine. Bought it full price ($130), then returned and bought it at a reduced price ($89.99), but several more visits tell me it doesn’t look like it’s going down again. A sales clerk said that the number of reductions depends on sell through, and that it would move to the sale rack mid season, where I found it my last visit.
I’ve seen the Holiday season merchandise come in (unusually early, I might add). Like a game, I've read the fine print on the various sales incentives that I usually ignore. There was the $25 off coupon, good during the second week of November, which I used to buy a second sweater (hello, hidden pocket long cardigan, below). I’ve taken two customer surveys, and received respectively a 20% and 15% off discount. In my hot little hands, I have two “All Chic All Week” coupons, for 40% off full-priced merchandise on 3 successive Wednesdays. Dressing room chat leads me to believe there are many more discounts and deals to be had. Since their merchandise is regularly reduced, I suppose the advantage of a coupon is not having to wait until an item falls to a desirable price, or not having to risk sellout, and the satisfaction of knowing you've gotten a good enough bargain so that you don't have to keep checking back! So far, I’m happily drinking the Banana Republic Kool-Aid.

Browsing Pre-Christmas J. Crew

Call me suggestible. Although I was headed to Banana Republic Women & Home, J.Crew benefitted from their location at the top of the stairs of Copley Place’s second floor (the affordable shops). On a mid-November Wednesday night, I joined a good number of shoppers scoping out Christmas styles and sales. I’d seen the “Wool harbor peacoat” online in sumptuous “barely peach," $220 originally, $169.99 online, plus a 20% off INSIDER sale that ended at 11:59pm, and my goal was to try it on and decide if I should buy it.

The best thing about the coat was its long sleeves. The bright red, “dark poppy,” size 8, seemed too bright, even for me, especially since I seem to be craving lighter neutral colors, an antidote to my all-black closet. The neutral, “antique stone,” size 6, totally washed me out though. The “barely peach” would have been the perfect color. When a salesgirl named Hope (for real!) offered us shoppers bottled water, I realized the dressing room was sweltering, I was tired of the peacoat decision, and most importantly, I wasn't convinced that I needed to have this coat by 11:59pm.
Off the sale rack, I’d plucked something I wouldn’t usually wear, but that’s the fun of browsing, and you never know when you’ll be surprised. A navy (“wild blackberry”) “fan placket perfect shirt,” on sale for $49.99. The silk/cotton blend felt great and light, and I loved that it was washable, but I just don’t get that messy, wrinkled look. I’d want to steam that placket, which was all bunched up, and I’d probably ruin it.

In my search for soft shirts to wear under winter sweaters, I tried the “textured jersey streamers tee” for $36.50, with mini-layers around the scoopneck, in a warm light gray that turns out to be “lavender.” The sleeves were strangely short, longer than 3/4 but barely hitting my wrists. The cotton was not super-soft so it didn’t feel special enough to pay full price for, but I will stop back to see if it goes on sale, because it represents what I think J. Crew does best: awesome colors.

My last item was a long luscious ombre silk scarf, originally $58, reduced to $20. It was light gray in the middle, dark gray at the ends. (Ok, I realize here it looks navy, but in the store I swear it was gray!) Since neutral accent colors are new for me, I wasn’t sure whether it was too cool on the gray spectrum, and needed to revisit it. I did get great advice from Hope on how to wear the scarf: either the ubiquitous “loop” (or “noose”), or a bow (not for me, thanks!), or go ahead and Google “scarf tying.”

All in all, a productive browsing experience, before hitting Banana Republic!

my yelp review: Aveda

Aveda Environmental Lifestyle Store
Categories: Massage, Nail Salons
Neighborhood: Back Bay
100 Huntington Ave
Boston, MA 02116
(617) 236-1917
Aveda Environmental Lifestyle Store
3 star rating
11/2/2009

Every now and then, I try to step into the world of women who put goop on their faces in order to look more natural. This involves the grueling process of talking about my skin, which is like chalk scraping against a blackboard to my sense of identity. A year and a half had passed since I'd made the mistake of buying Aveda's tinted moisturizer ($28). Because of their incredibly generous return policy, you can return any product, even if opened, without any time restriction. I went back last week, thinking I was ready to try another skin product, something less like makeup, maybe one of their moisturizers.

Let me say I am a BIG fan of Aveda as a brand. All that pure essence of plant and flower shit makes me swoon, much less their focus on sustainable business practices, for which they deserve to be the market leader they are. My allegiance started with their shampoos, one whiff of Shampure to be exact: "a calming mix of 25 pure flower and plant essences," according to the bottle. AND DID I MENTION THAT IT SMELLS FANTASTIC?! Then those sweet little postcards luring me in with free samples or a small bottle of free scent on my birthday (one of which I dropped and found myself actually crying about, although the bedroom smelled wonderful to me for months and months afterwards!). At first I brought the postcards into the Copley store the next day. But every now and then, I'd realize I didn't need or want one of the freebies. In other words, the brand's glow had its off moments. And it is at those moments, when the brand's products aren't keeping their promise, that other aspects of the brand, like warm, welcoming service and fantastic return policies repair the void, ultimately redeeming the customer's brand experience.

This did not happen for me. Of the two employees I met, one was too new to know the welcome drill, withholding the signature licorice tea for a cruelly long period, and the other (the manager) seemed too weary. (You'd think Aveda would stock free energy-boosting treats for staff like the AcaiBlaster antioxidant soft chews I bought from GNC downtown.) Before giving me the spiel about what special ingredients were in this concoction or that concoction, which is what I go there for and what I enjoy, the manager quizzed me in an impatient manner, suggested a four-bottle Botanical Kinetics regime for $90, and then hurried off to the one new customer, leaving me with sticker shock and paranoid thoughts. Wasn't I dressed expensively enough? Do I really want to shop in a place that you feel you have to dress up for? I had come from work, so it wasn't like I was in sweats. I managed to leave with a (relatively) modest 1.7 fl oz bottle of what was labeled a massage oil ($21) (and which I thought my husband would, ahem, enjoy), the energizing composition, but I think it's the staff who needs a good dose of it.

my yelp review: Rinaldi's

Rinaldi's Park Square
Category: Shoe Repair
Neighborhood: Back Bay
31 Saint James Ave Ste 550
Boston, MA 02116
(617) 426-6480
4 star rating
11/1/2009

I wouldn't have ventured into the Park Square Building, past the manned security desk, if Camper hadn't sent me. The old Boston building had pretentious gilded scrollwork and friezes inside the double height lobby and along the first floor concourse that creeped me out. Or maybe the strange mix of shops reminded me slightly of Harry Potter's Diagon Alley for wizarding supplies, where you hoped you could remember how to get out before some mischievous young wizard tried out their new wand on you. The quarter-sized blister on my left heel had just healed from this fall's debut of my Camper Spirals 46098-002, and I wanted someone to stretch the culprit (the left boot) to prevent a long torturous wearing in period. I am a firm believer in not suffering for fashion.

With a name like Rinaldi's, you walk in to the teeny shop wanting to love the place, and I can safely say that I did, although my simple request might not have been much of a test. I presented the woman behind the counter with my plainly beautiful brown leather left boot. She held it respectfully, for which I was grateful, since that one boot cost me about $106, and that was only after I'd gone back to Camper's a week later to get the price reduction. I wanted to tell her the whole story behind buying them (because there's always a story, isn't there?): how I had plunked down my hard-earned cash after a long search for boots that fit my narrow calves, and my love of rubber soles, and that I had considered them perfect until my first blister last winter, which I'd completely forgotten about until putting them on last week. But luckily for her, I didn't.

A man whom I'll presume was Mr. Rinaldi came up some stairs from a lower level workshop, and made a few expert observations: that he would only stretch the heel leather a little bit since it would stretch eventually with normal wear; that it would fit better now if I just put in thinner insoles (which I didn't want to do); that he could do it for $10, which I gathered was $5 off the regular price. Maybe because it was only one boot?

I've worn the boots once since and am completely happy with Rinaldi's work. The left heel now fits perfectly. Unfortunately, this correction has highlighted the fact that the right toebox is a little narrow, even though it's rounded, leaving my poor fourth toe chafed and close to blistered. I will have to test the boots a few more times to decide if I need to have the right one stretched. If I do, I know where to go.

my yelp review: Jerry's

Jerry's Custom Tailoring and Alterations
Category: Sewing & Alterations
Neighborhood: Back Bay
729 Boylston St
Boston, MA 02116
(617) 266-5757
5 star rating
9/4/2009

A claim check for Jerry's Custom Tailors is in my wallet right now. I first heard about him over ten years ago when buying a couple of dresses (on sale) at Lord & Taylor's for my wedding rehearsal dinner. Either they didn't have a tailor, or the tailor couldn't do it on short notice, so they referred me to Jerry, just across the street! Uber-convenient, since I worked at 745 Boylston and lived in Bay Village. Several jobs and one move to JP later, I'm still a regular.

While I can do basic hemming and button replacement, I don't always have the time or want to risk messing it up. Jerry is very discrete and treats everything I bring in with respect, even if they are fresh from sale racks, or — gasp — thrift stores! Off the top of my head, some work he's done: hemmed my pants from J.Crew (pink seersucker on sale) and Boomerang's (brown wool plaid bought for $9); he's shortened the sleeves on my North Face softshell jacket (Freeport ME outlet); and at this moment, he's resizing a size 14 pink linen Banana Republic tulip skirt ($1 at Boomerangs outlet closing sale!), and raising an ankle-length hem on a bias-cut linen dress to just below the knee (vintage Boomerangs).

Go to Jerry — but don't hog him! He will turn your clothes into perfectly fitting favorites. And if you haven't noticed, I'm very cost-conscious, so you know Jerry must be reasonable. :)
............................................................................
Update - 11/1/2009

I cannot believe how well the Banana Republic skirt turned out (see 9/4/09 review). Imagine resizing a skirt from size 14 to a size 4 or 6. The only way you can tell is that the side zipper is now a couple inches off-center and sits in back of my left hip, but that said, the seams line up on the outside and the inside lining. Perfect for my next warm-weather visit to Florida or the Caribbean?!!

Spring RTW Marathon Sunday

It seems that Sunday passed while I was busy scouring WWD’s coverage of the Spring 2010 fashion shows. I had no idea WWD.com had so much free content, much less “more show reviews & images than any other site.” My lowbrow curiosity first urged me to learn about Lindsey Lohan’s role as artistic advisor to Emanuel Ungaro’s new designer, Estrella Archs. WWD’s comments egged me on further, calling Ungaro’s RTW Spring 2010 fashion show “quite simply, an embarrassment.... the clothes, they looked cheesy and dated, as has often been the case chez Ungaro during the post-Emanuel revolving door of designers. Hot pink, orange and flashy, with an overworked heart motif relentless in its execution...”



Cheesy and dated? Those glitter hearts could be teenager-young except for the porn-star hearts-as-pasties. And if the bandeau-bra look seems too beachy, other designers also seem to be mashing beachwear and lingerie into daywear. The closest thing to cheesy I saw was the shorts suit with pasties and no shirt. But is that cheesy, or just runway craziness, in the same category as Gareth Pugh’s sheer shirts?










I like bright pinks and oranges, either at Ungaro, Stella McCartney, or DKNY. I like clean lines, and shocks of color against neutrals. After clicking through the Ungaro collection, I went through as many other designers as my eyeballs could absorb, because it’s fun to see how much you can retain, and whether you can recognize the influences later in the stores.

Look out for my red soles!

Simon Doonan in Lanvin pumps (photo from FabSugar). Creative Director of Barneys New York. Cross-dresser specializing in Queen of England II. Imploring us women to resist the evil conformist trend toward porno chic and develop an individual sense of eccentric glamor.

How can you not be inspired? In “Eccentric Glamour,” that book he's holding, Doonan says a basic element of personal style is to have a repertoire of signature flourishes. I don't think I have many, but there is one. The color red. Clothes, housewares, shoes, everything. Sometimes I wonder if I’ve gone too far: sheets, pillow cases, blankets and towels.


And then I spy something else. Red-SOLED shoes! And I don’t mean Christian Louboutin's. (Although I find it interesting there is a demand on eBay for Vibram’s red rubber outsoles by women looking to prolong the life of their prized stilettos.) No. I'm talking about Donald J Pliner’s Glori-P, Elastic String Back Strap Tractor Sandal.

This isn't the first red sole that has caught my eye. See Camper's Ankle Boots from last year.







Doonan says that once you know your style identity, you owe it to yourself — and your neighborhood and workplace — to dress the part and fill the world with positive vibrations! Look out for my soles!

Radiohead’s "Harry Patch"

(Harry Patch at the 90th anniversary of Armistice Day in London in 2008. Photograph: Alessia Pierdomenico/PA)

I first saw that Radiohead had a new song in a Wall Street Journal article by Jim Fusilli. “Harry Patch (In Memory Of)” (5:33) is a tribute to the last British veteran of World War I who died on July 25 at age 111. I am now on my tenth (and counting) listen. Not rock but slow with big strings — elegiac.

Harry Patch (In Memory Of) lyrics:
I am the only one that got through
The others died where ever they fell
It was an ambush
They came up from all sides
Give your leaders each a gun and then let them fight it out themselves
I've seen devils coming up from the ground
I've seen hell upon this earth
The next will be chemical but they will never learn

I am always interested in what inspires. Thom Yorke used some of Patch’s own words from a 2005 BBC interview (9:57), so I went there, and quickly understood. Even though Harry Patch is only one of the veterans interviewed, his whispery voice is scratchy, lyrical, and incredibly haunting. (Perhaps even more so after the hassle of making RealPlayer work, what with the “invalid socket errors,” two upgrades, and multiple restarts.) Picture Clint Eastwood in thirty years being asked if the First World War was worth it. “No, they never learn. They had two world wars. The Third World War will be chemical. I don’t want to say it.” (4:06)

New York* staffers test drive Fall 09 runway shoes

This is the kind of thing I love – an attempt to mix real women with unreal fashion. In this short video (1:51), New York Magazine staffers try on the craziest of the Fall 09 runway shoes, the ones that models apparently fell in. After a quick walk up and back on a sidewalk that seems to be just outside the magazine’s building, they gave their opinions. Three testers admitted their shoes were uncomfortable, and three testers expressed mild surprise (perhaps a touch of condescension?) that a model could fall in such comfortable shoes. What these women were testing was really not comfort. They were testing basic walkability. See Nina Ricci's 8.5" platform heelless shoes that make you walk on tiptoe. A truer test would be walking the same course that the models walked on the runway. Or wearing the shoes for several hours. And was it just me, or did the staffer testing the "comfortable" Manolo Blahniks have a bit of a wobbly ankle situation?

*I have to say that I love New York Magazine’s fashion blog The Cut for its insidery tone (which is not too too) and its inevitable New York sass, sometimes reflected in comments that are shocking and priceless.

Spring 09 YSL Cage Boots*

At first sight: It’s not love. It’s confusion. What has Beyonce got on her feet, little cages? Instant write-off of YSL's Cage Boots as another painful fad that celebrities force themselves to endure.




Double take: Whoa. See the closeup, above? The stitching? They’re apparently made of leather. And therefore flexible. Maybe even comfortable, especially as they're ventilated for the warmer months. Except for pinkie toes, seen here, at left, trying to escape out a side window.








Influences: Architectural furniture, like the Bertoia Asymmetric Chaise.











In our closet: They remind us (ever so slightly) of a well-worn pair of Josef Siebel slides that our designer husband won’t let us throw away. He loves the small lattice detail, tiny strips of horizontal leather.

Still, even if this was a good economy, no shoe, not even YSL, is worth a mortgage payment ($1,590), even to fashion voyeurs like us.

*Inspiration from Boston Metro’s 5/5/09 YSL Cage Boot cover image & Kenya Hunt's Style article, p8.

Biras Creek Polka-dotted Tunic

Have thoughts of unpurchased clothing followed you home from vacation? You sweep the sand from your suitcase, clutch your pictures of heavenly blue skies, turquoise pool water, sunglasses & sunhats on everyone, and wish you’d ignored the voice that cried, Are they crazy? $130 for a simple linen tunic?
Ah, yes. But not just any linen tunic. A particularly elegant navy with white polka dots. In a shop outside perhaps the most exclusive resort in Virgin Gorda (next door to the also-exclusive Bitter End Yacht Club). I was converted on the spot into a navy person, a color I've religiously avoided as too conservative.
This “Navy Dots Beach Tunic” from Island Company ($145, above) is close but more casual; perhaps the dots are too close together, the blue isn’t navy enough.

Ralph Lauren’s “Aryana Cotton Jersey Tunic” ($39.99 on sale, above) is more elegant, the right spirit, even without polka dots.

A navy top will appear in my closet sooner rather than later.

L.L. Bean "Brand Guilt"

L.L. Bean is like an old boyfriend I’ve grown out of. Every so often I see him around. Like in my mom’s coat closet, up in Bar Harbor, Maine. Or the Bean outlet in Ellsworth. But I let my L.L. Bean Visa lapse into the default Bank of America card because I wanted Bank of America’s Worldpoints. I didn’t even use some of the $10 L.L. Bean coupons by the end. Their clothes were too basic, almost boring. I’ve met two new brands — Patagonia and Athleta (bought by Gap in 9/08) — with great sales and much higher quality and style.

So when I read that L.L. Bean is freezing wages and salaries of their 5,500 employees starting in March 2009, I felt concern. Even a twinge of guilt. L.L. Bean seems like a great company with unbeatable customer service. They are only trying to stall layoffs. Their 2008 holiday sales were down 10% from 2007. These are tough times for everyone. A turnaround in the economy and the company’s performance is not expected until 2010. Short of getting Michelle Obama to appear in some fitness fleece, I'm tempted to order some for my spring vacation. Apparently I still have feelings for L.L. Bean and I wish them well.

From Dad’s closet to mine

William AlBurtis Cauldwell • June 2, 1926-January 9, 2009

On January 2, 2009, my father was admitted to Baptist Medical Center Beaches in Jacksonville, Florida. When it became clear that multiple organs were failing, and he kept asking for a gun, my brother and I rode with him in the ambulence to a hospice center, where my father passed a mere seven hours later. During that time, Jacksonville had a freak cold spell and out of habit, I raided Dad’s closets for warmer clothes. His oversized, v-neck rayon-polyester-blend white and baby blue sweaters were super soft and made great nightshirts. His bright orange socks and tassled boat shoes were great for yardwork and cleaning away the grimy evidence of his daily routines with his dog Baron, who might be part Vizsla.

I brought a few treasures back with me: a red canvas belt with leather around the buckle that had been looped in the pants of a yellow suit. A school ring with an amber stone found in a red Cartier box in the garage. Dad's things carried a special weight, a way to keep him close, a way he could not refuse, and they are sprinkled throughout my closet.