Just about a year ago, the NY Times Style section featured Crocs, friendly-colored rubber clogs with air conditioning. I immediately saw their beach-chic potential, and their appearance this spring on the Juicy Couture-clad young things of the city didn’t exactly raise my heart rate.
But on dudes? That had me sitting up straight.
At this point, I’ve seen men in Crocs from Venice Beach to Prospect Heights (they’re more popular in the former terrain). These white ones worn with camo pants are particularly well-rocked, wouldn’t you say? This guy worked in a boutique off of Venice Beach (as if you didn’t already know).
Check them out (or get your guy to) on crocs.com.
Sorry for the lapse in posting, friends—I’m on a California coast vacation!
A few days ago, I spent the night in a yurt at the Treebones Lodge in Big Sur. It was, as my delightful companion put it, glorified camping (the only way to camp, if you ask me). As we were almost-camping and in the middle of (gulp) nature, I was not looking for threadmettle material. But it found me! Two young lady lodgers were wearing what I call the It Birkenstocks (i.e., the Birkenstocks favored this summer by Those Who Care). They are the Madrid:
…and the Gizeh:
Whatever the It Birkenstocks may be at any given point in time, those of us in New York can be sure to find them (and no others) in a variety of colors at Diane T. in Cobble Hill, Brooklyn.
I grew up on the Upper West Side, and until after college, my knowledge of downtown NYC was spotty, at best. I kind of knew SoHo, maybe parts of the West Village, but the East Village (and the mere existence of the Lower East Side, come to think of it) was a complete mystery to me. I had heard how great East Village shopping was, and I was dying to buy clothes somewhere other than J. Crew, but where was this mythical shopping, exactly? Where to begin?
If someone had just said, “Take the R/W to 8th Street or the 6 to Astor Place, walk east on 7th Street to Avenue A, then loop back on 9th Street,” that would’ve been a great start. For those of you who would like a bit more information, here’s a shopping map of those two streets.
A couple of notes on the map: I didn’t drive myself crazy profiling each and every store. If I couldn’t muster much enthusiasm about a place, I simply didn’t include it (though with 36 shops, I can hardly claim to have been a ruthless editor). Did I leave out a place that you think is great? If so, let me know.
When you go to the map, the zoom function is on the left. I’ve heard that if you scroll over a shop, the information balloon gets cut off, but if you click on any of the shops, you should be able to read everything about it just fine.
So enjoy. And let me know what you think. This one’s for you, Allegra…
I’m no fair-weather shopper. In fact, one might even argue that I deliberately seek out shopping adversity (on Tuesday I suffered 2.5 hours at the Diane Von Furstenberg sample sale. That’s right, 2.5 hours to get in, catch as catch could, steal a glimpse in the war-torn communal dressing room mirror and fork over my money.). Now perhaps I’m a little sample saled-out, or maybe I’m just going soft, but lately I’ve noticed that sometimes it’s kinda nice to shop at stores that provide an experience that’s—well, kinda nice.
Now I’m not talking about good music or flattering lighting or civil, informed sales help. Those are (or should be) standard features if one is going to (gasp) pay retail. The experience-enhancers I’m referring to are just a couple of inspired touches that can make all the difference. Want an example? The denim legs at Plaza Too on 80th and Broadway. Check it out:
How often have you had to haul yourself back to a shoe store because you needed to see how the pair in consideration looked with jeans before buying them? Well, with Plaza Too’s denim leg, wear whatever; the jeans are here! And because the people at Plaza Too really know their audience, the denim leg comes in a few different washes.
Another shopping experience enhancer? A pleasant scent. Dear Fieldbinder in Carroll Gardens and Psyche’s Tears in the East Village burn Clean Crisp White and Honeysuckle Votivo candles, respectively. Aside from masking not-so-fresh scents (Psyche’s Tears is one vintage store that does not smell like a vintage store), these stores have a scent identity. I swear, I could smell that Clean Crisp White on the other side of the world and think, “Dear Fieldbinder!” It’s not just pleasant, it’s just plain smart.
Even us Achilles-ready-for-battle shoppers like to be disarmed sometimes. Are there any retail touches out there that have really touched you?
Even in stormy weather I like to go sale-ing. Starting today:
Theory sample sale
6/2-6/9 (10-5:45 today, 10-3:45 Saturday, 10-4:45 Sunday, 10-6 on Monday, Wednesday & Friday; 10-7 on Tuesday & Thursday)
261 W. 36th St., between Seventh & Eighth Aves., 2nd fl. (212-947-8748)
Built by Wendy sample sale
6/2-6/3 (11-8)
46 N. 6th St., in Williamsburg (718-384-2882)
And next week…
Diane Von Furstenberg sale
6/6–6/9 (9–8 on Tuesday, Wednesday & Thursday; 9-3 on Friday)
260 Fifth Ave., near 28th St. (212-725-5400)
In 2002, J. Crew made the perfect skimmer, an utterly iconic pointy leather flat. Do you remember it? It gave you the slightest bit of toe cleavage (which, if you ask me, is way sexier than the décolleté kind). Most people snatched them up in black, but they also came in a buttery tan, like this:
Way back then, I ordered these shoes (hilariously now selling on eBay for around $10), and, in a fit of buyer’s remorse, returned them. I’ve often thought of them, the J. Crew flats that got away, and would routinely mutter Homer’s “DOH!” as I tried on an outfit that begged for the refined lack-of-distraction that the nude shoe is uniquely capable of providing.
Oh, the nude shoe. I call it ‘nude’ because it’s kind of like those awful flesh-toned stockings we once actually considered wearing, the ones that were supposed to be the next best thing to being bare-legged. Well, you know how sometimes you put on an outfit, and you like it so much better when you’re in your bare feet? Nude shoes are barely there; they’re the next best thing to being barefoot. Except that they’re pretty classy, too—unlike those flesh-toned stockings, and unlike flip-flops, which basically are bare feet (and there ain’t nothing classy about the soiled soles of your feet after flip-flopping around this sooty city of ours). Nude shoes kind of blend in, let an outfit—especially one that’s particularly expressive in terms of color and/or pattern—speak for itself, but class it up a bunch, too.
I’m no longer mourning the loss of my J. Crew flats. Here’s the nude shoe that I held on to:
Taller, a bit more beige, and excellent, wouldn’t you say?
Do you have a nude shoe? If not, I just saw this great pair of deliciously casual Repetto ballet flats at Otto Tootsi Plohound on West Broadway…
A ballet flat but better. Don’t you love the gold accent at the heel?