A lot the Northeast wasn’t so lucky—and my heart goes out to those who got smacked this weekend—but I’m feeling quite grateful that the Blizzard of the Century decided to give New York City a pass on Friday night. Saturday morning was nothing but clear, bright skies, (mostly) shoveled sidewalks, and the kind of lightly giddy mood on the streets that comes from knowing that a bullet was dodged. The neighborhood was full of tourists gamely mucking about, kids playing in Abingdon Square Park’s relatively-unsullied milli-acre of snow, and, of course—in this, the most doggie-dense area of town—a thousand pooches frolicking in the snowbanks. At any given moment, at least half of them could be counted upon to be wearing Pawz, disposable little balloon-shaped rubber booties that protect from the rather ouchy effects of salt on their vulnerable little paws. Pawz are a bitch to get on—somewhat like trying to fit four little condoms on somebody who doesn’t understand there’s an upside to wearing them—but they get the job done. And although the matchy-matchy look here wasn’t intentional, is there any denying that Sammy looks boss?
BTW: when the snow gets half-slushy and it’s time to pull out your serious mucking-about boots, consider reaching for your favorite cropped jeans too. They’re just the right length to not get all bunchy when you pull socks over them, and just in general keep things on the smoother side. File that one under Counterintuitive But True.
By Sunday afternoon, I realized I hadn’t actually left my neighborhood since Tuesday. This is a surprisingly easy thing to do in New York if it’s winter, and your universe involves Fresh Direct, working at home, and at least one nearby cafe that you can treat as a second living room. Still, this was a troubling thought. As was the realization that I couldn’t recall the last time I’d had one of my little city shopping rambles. The sun was out, but it wouldn’t be for long, so I decked Sammy out in his Pawz and off we went. The first stop was APC on West 4th Street where, rather predictably, I was drawn immediately to this blue leopard print parka. I communed with it for a few moments, and then moved on. As one does with items that have a certain appeal that can not be denied, but are bat shit crazy nevertheless.
Way, way more real-world tempting was this canvas and leather tote with an unbelievably good dot print that almost reads like tweed—you really have to go to the site and zoom in to get a good sense of the scope of its excellence. If I still worked in an office I would be all over it.
As it is, I’ll probably just get the tee.
What I really found myself flipping out over, however, were these amazing quilts—all of which were made in India with archival APC fabrics. This one with the yellow and light, light brown has nothing to do with the rest of my home, but I want it desperately.
I like how this one’s design is somewhat like a traditional quilt’s, but then again totally isn’t.
Then it was off to lower Fifth Avenue—not the most thrilling destination, but the most convenient for somebody who’d gotten a late start and was traveling by foot and with dog. I popped in to J. Crew, but somebody had majorly flipped the switch on Springtime in there—it was Liberty schoolboy blazers and lilac-hued cashmere sweaters as far as the eye could see. I’d be back, of course. The lower Fifth Avenue J Crew is one of the great constants of my life.
Madewell was in more of a transitional mode: I want this this chevron-print peasant blouse madly, even though the neck is a bit high for me. There is always the possibility of wearing it backward, with the button unsnapped and the label cut out, a trick I’ve employed more than once. Also, it is just as—if differently—cute in the red.
I wasn’t in a dessing room mood but when I am, I will be back for these swing tees, which seem to be just about the right length, have a nice slouchiness, and are super-soft. Also, that’s just a great blue.
Couldn’t one almost frame this safari scarf and use it to decorate a child’s bedroom or something?
My next—and final—stop before home was West Elm, because I am desperate to find new side tables for my living room sofa. And can I just say? That maybe it’s just me, and maybe it’s just because it’s always so mobbed on the weekends when I go, and maybe it’s just the weird feng shui of that 18th Street store, but I can never really shop at West Elm. I’m fully prepared for the problem to just be me, by the way. And because I do actually like West Elm’s stuff, I think I need to hit up their big Brooklyn store. Another day.