A Package Store for PreppiesBy Mike Albo
September 15, 2008
THE new J. Crew’s men’s boutique on the corner of West Broadway and White Street used to be a busy bar, often crowded with loud, drunk TriBeCans. I think I went there once or twice in the 1990s to accompany one of my women friends while they tried to pick up bankers. Because it was the ’90s, I was probably wearing some baggy secondhand gas-station attendant shirt and pair of bootleg cords, refusing to look put together because I didn’t want to appear preppy. ...
Near the door was a $1,200 plaid mackintosh that looked tasteful and durable. Next to it was a $125 English wool pinstripe blazer and accompanying vest. Carl tried on a dark blue rain slicker ($800), which looked crisp and professional on him, while I coveted a $325 Yorkshire tweed jacket with pleated pockets, wishing I had married a loud, drunk banker so I could buy it. ...
It does not function as a bar anymore, but you get the sense the store wants you to feel buzzed enough to forget the dismal economy and slap down your debit card. It offers upscale impulse buys like Aesop grooming products, John Derian decoupage paperweights, vintage vinyl albums from New Order and Devo, and used books like “Rabbit Redux” ($18) and “City of Night” ($5). Shirts hang on the racks with the sleeves wrinkled and rolled up as if they are at happy hour, including some nice basic button-downs for $59.50, and an attractive yellow plaid check for $68. ...
J.Crew’s selections come in an array of prices that keep your eye tempted: a $795 motocross leather jacket was near a $58 plaid wool cap, close to a $34.50 gray henley. I was especially drawn to a long, shawl-collar cardigan with pockets and big buttons made in a gray sweatshirt material ($78). It was a smart hybrid probably fashioned by some budding designer at the brand who will to start her own line next year.
Still, some items were so outrageously preppy, I felt my original odium for the style rising in my throat like bad grain-alcohol punch. A series of knit ties in bright colors, $49.50, brought to mind a tragically alcoholic dorm mate from college on his way to a football game, and a quilted patchwork tote, for $850, was something his equally blotto girlfriend would use to carry around her pumps and kegger go-cup.
Some items were just plain outrageous, preppy or not. A pair of $245 jeans with patches sewn all over them hung proudly in the center of the front room. (Aren’t we done with the whole fake-distressed trend?) A small glass case at the front of the store displayed vintage watchbands, belt buckles, aviators and pencils that have been chewed by the celebrated TriBeCan writer Max Blagg on sale for $25 each. Yes, that’s right —chewed pencils for $25. This is mostly a promotional gimmick — the store will soon offer copies of his book “What a Man Should Know” — but I couldn’t help but think of this as a trend, and imagined the poor, spidery Joyce Carol Oates sitting at an assembly line, gnawing away.
Carl and I stopped in front of a stack of vintage V-neck sweater vests, which were decorated with bright snowflakes and squares around the collar and waist. They were interesting, but they were also $200. A magnetic store person walked up and persuaded Carl to try one on. The little sweater made him resemble a Keebler elf in grad school. Carl politely returned the garment, and I pulled him out, before one of us went home with something we would regret the next morning.
Did you like/dislike the article's take on the store? Have you visited the Tribeca store since it's opening? If so, we would love to know what you think of it. ;)
0 comments:
Post a Comment