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On a Black Friday when the weather in NYC is clear and inviting, what is there to do other than join the throngs of consumers rather than attempting to beat them.
Avid shoppers via for elbow room while rummaging through tables of discounted sweaters and marked down blenders and other items earmarked for future landfill projects. It's a beautiful sight.
The thing you come to realize though when you walk into stores like Bergdorf Goodman and their ilk is that for decades while you were under the impression that you'd been wearing clothes, in fact you haven't. I don't know what it is that you and I have been wearing all this time but they most certainly aren't clothes because they bare no resemblance to what's on the racks here.
Beautiful thick cashmere sweaters, soft leather coats, fine wool trousers...all surrounded by shop assistants greeting you with a, "hello sir, please let me know if I can be of assistance".
At one point, clutching a beaten up vintage leather jacket I'd pulled from its hanger, I did a double take. I thought to myself, "So rather than going to the Hells Kitchen markets, the time-challenged and financially superior come to Bergdorf's to buy their vintage leather jackets?! It’s madness but I suppose if you have the means…" I began trying to visualize who this person was who shops at a store like this and walks away with a jacket that has (gasp!) been sported by another?! It intrigued me especially as the clean-cut group that happened to be next to me were surrounding the patriarchal figure who was slipping into a dull looking, new leather coat with few redeeming qualities other than possibly its quality construction.
Having a weakness for vintage leather jackets, I tried on the coat and zipped it up. Perfect. The only hitch was that it was $495 instead of the $100 you would expect to pay at the markets. The jacket that hung next to it was $1100 and seeing as there was no chance of either coming home with me, I tried that one on too. Next, I tried on the new equivalent of the leather coat I had on which I distinctly remember paying ten pounds for in an East Finchley thrift store. This one was $2600.
Upstairs in the Men's shoe section I couldn't resist trying on a pair of soft black leather slip-ons with a weighty silver buckle on the side. My clobber didn't make much of an impression with the older sales person (jeans, white t-shirt, black leather jacket) but he was professional enough. I've long been a subscriber to the notion that food/ rent concerns run a close second to having the pair of fuck-off shoes to get about in. Call me the Carr-He Bradshaw of NYC but with the right shoes, you can blag your way into anything and at the same time be ready for everything. With a slap on the back and a 10% discount for being display stock I was on way, shoes in tow.
The 1st of the month is looming, rent is due and your landlord is making his overseas holiday plans.
You know what to do hot-stepper...
Tags:
Bergdorf Goodman, Black Friday, Hells Kitchen Markets, Shopping
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Posted on 11/28/2006
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