NYC Men's Fashion and Retail Blog | The Bespoken: For Gentlemen

The Mean Reds

 

Photograph © Sindi Schorr 2009

Men, like lions or peacocks are the more beautiful of the species; their beauty bolsters their biological exuberance. Never is that more evident than at Bergdorf Goodman’s Men’s Store.

When I grow dark about the mouth, Bergdorf Goodman’s Men’s Store is my Tiffany’s, I quote Holly Golightly “The blues are because you're getting fat, and maybe it's been raining too long, you're just sad that's all. The mean reds are horrible. Suddenly you're afraid and you don't know what you're afraid of. Do you ever get that feeling? Well, when I get it the only thing that does any good is to jump in a cab and go to Tiffany's. Calms me down right away. The quietness, and the proud look of it; nothing very bad could happen to you there. If I could find a real-life place that'd make me feel like Tiffany's, then - then I'd buy some furniture and give the cat a name!” Breakfast at Tiffany’s Truman Capote.

 

Photograph © Sindi Schorr 2009

Bergdorf Goodman’s Men’s Store didn’t open until 1990. How did we manage? The offshoot of the formidable Women's Store directly across the street, it is like a sophisticated French marriage, but no less loved than its estranged partner. For some it is an oasis, a sanctuary from the plethora of consumable fashion shops that litters Fifth Avenue these days. At Bergdorf Goodman’s Men’s Store, impeccably dressed salesmen are more like fashion ambassadors, and beckon customers like a lighthouse, navigating shoppers through a calm sea of tie and shirt selections from labels like Charvet and Etro. On the spacious second floor, formal wear from houses like Tom Ford, Bamford & Sons, and Spencer Hart hang casually in individual areas, each with its own private sitting room, and decorated to resemble a stylish Tribeca loft, the likes of which you are only liable to see in the Sunday New York Times Magazine Style section. The clientele is comprised of Greenwich transplants, hedge fund owners, or rap artists dressing for the MTV Awards, where they have their pick of avant-garde sportswear upstairs on three, with styles from Dsquared, Alexander McQueen, and Thom Browne; whereas Upper East Siders with pedigrees can stick to Ralph Lauren, Brioni, and Gucci. While not qualifying for membership in any of those demographics, I too, nevertheless have a place at the Bergdorf table, where I can still dine on dreams.

 

Like Holly, my budget is strictly Cracker Jack. While the staff is lovely to the nth degree, no John McGiver has come forward to my rescue. I can gaze at the windows; croissant and coffee in hand. I can run my hands over the silk ties, and Zenga suits, which shimmer like they were woven with remnants of stardust. Bergdorf Goodman’s Men’s Store always cures me of my “mean reds“, I’m going to buy some furniture and name my cat.

Close Up And Far Away

Mannequins are usually set behind plate glass, and on a pedestal. Therefore, a message of protectivity, and elevation of subject matter is created. Regardless, mannequins are usually isolated from us. Our interaction with them is strictly voyeuristic.

Photograph © Sindi Schorr 2008

Close Up: In this instance, Schorr gets so close that every hair of the mannequin’s bangs, brows and eyelashes are clearly defined. We are cognizant of the relationship hair has a form of seduction and camouflage. Schorr manages to use her camera to draw us in closer than we would ordinarily be comfortable venturing. A kind of intimacy is created. The smokey colored eye is especially sultry, dark and dense, with a glimmer of a bright retina. The eyelashes cast the kind of shadow that Fritz Lang used in his film noirs to convey a kind of feline-like menace. The opposite eye is obscured by the wispy bang, indicating that she is secretly looking back, studying. A kind of balance and tension is established.

Photograph © Sindi Schorr 2008

Far Away: In this instance, Schorr steps back, she explores spatial relationships, as she does, the details of the facial silhouette becomes more striking, especially the pronounced pouty lips. Schorr’s sensitivity to composition is evident, more so than the way most photographers would approach the same subject matter, (by photographing a full profile, telling the whole story). This photograph is more about what is not seen. The casement window in the background creates a nice checkerboard, which holds her back, framing the pertinent details. Equally cinematic to “Close Up” this mannequin appears to just have entered the screen, pausing, assessing the grey void, where a strange kind of silence occurs, it almost a scripted dramatic beat.

If you live nearby, please note the work of Sindi Schorr has not gone unnoticed. Ms. Schorr is showing in two upcoming prestigious exhibits…

IL Chiostro: At the Broome Street Gallery in New York City (located at 498 Broome St. just East of West Broadway in SoHo) The exhibit is open Tuesday through Sunday, from 11:00 am to 6:00 pm, March 3^rd through the 15^th, 2009. The Artists' Reception, to be held on Saturday, March 7th, 4:00 pm to 7:00 pm. Call for 212-226-6085 for further details.

Immigration: Community, Culture & Change: At the HP Gallery at Calumet Photo, 22 West 22^nd Street, 2^nd Floor, in New York City. The exhibit is open from March 9^th thru 21^st, 2009. The Artists’ Reception, to be held on Friday, March 6^th from 6:00 pm to 8:00 pm. Sponsored in part by the Professional Women Photographers

The Tent Shows

Once upon a time carnivals traversed America, pitching tents in the boon-docks to bring the magic of the circus to small towns everywhere. Barnum & Bailey, the Cole Brothers and the Ringling Brothers performed their acrobatics underneath the canvas high-top as the public gaped in wonder and fear. Another form of tent shows were the grand revival meetings with evangelists promising to save souls like Aimee Semple McPherson, Father Billy Sunday and Marjo Gortner. They sold bibles and salvation. Whether you came for the cotton candy, two-headed lion, or to see someone convulse into tongues as the devil was cast out of them, the tent shows were an entertainment mainstay, a colorful diversion from the monotony of daily life.

However, that was nearly a century ago, and today we are far more sophisticated…not.

This is Fashion Week in New York City, the annual Spring/Summer shows are up and running and the tent has been pitched in Bryant Park. Gone is the free ice skating rink to make way for the catwalk. The event has grown well past the capacity of the park, and plans (tentative) are to hold next year’s function on the roof of the Port Authority Bus Terminal in the Fashion District (gas masks not provided).

The Bryant Park tent shows are the “must see,” “must be seen at” fashion event of the year. Getting into the show is just about as difficult as getting a back stage pass to see the Jonas Brothers. Still, over the week about 100,000 lucky fashionistas will manage to secure a ticket. If you do get in, the only two-headed animal, or seizure-induced doyenne speaking in tongues you may see is a well-known fashion editor who shall remain nameless.

My grandmother used to say, “There are the way things are, and the way things appear to be. Remember, my darling, you will be judged by the way things appear to be, not are.” Fashion companies have taken that advice to heart, and the appearance of $25,000 frocks, luxury handbags and shoes does not read as culturally sensitive to the tenur of the times. Over indulged celebrities sitting in the front row are a bit of a turn off. There is a “back-lash,” and as a result, there is a noticeable absence of Olson Twins, Victoria Beckham's, Paris Hilton's and Jennifer Lopez's at this year’s events.

The economy has affected the wealthy too. Designers and fashion houses remain fiscally cautious, but flush. Life has conspired to make this year’s finale go out like a whimper. The cost to produce a show at the event exceeds the limited budget of many a successful designer. It costs between $28,000 and $58,000 just to rent one of three spaces in Bryant Park, but when you factor in the cost of models, DJs, makeup sets, lighting, and hair, the cost of a show can balloon beyond $500,000...emphasis on easily.

Some of the designers just opted out of the event all together, including Vera Wang, Betsey (Crocker) Johnson and Carmen Marc Valvo. Others are showing, but scaling back. Halston is e-mailing a music video featuring its new collection, instead of doing a show. Their star is model Dree Hemingway, daughter of Mariel, niece of Margo, and great granddaughter of Ernest Hemingway. Sharing a tent is Mara Hoffman, Nicholas K and Sergio Davila, who are combining their lines in a joint show to save costs. Other labels, like Tracy Reese, are staying near Bryant Park, but downsizing to smaller venues. Most noticeable is the number of designers dialing back on their productions. Of this season’s collections in and outside the tents, 131 are runway offerings and 66 are producing less costly presentations, where clothing is displayed on mannequins, and it is their guests who do the strutting. A hot ticket was the off-site show of Jason Wu, designer of the white dress with organza flowers that was worn by Michelle Obama to the inaugural balls.

Tommy Hilfiger and Narciso Rodriguez will make up for some of that lost luster, each returning to the tent shows after three years. Where one door closes, another opens, exiting designers have opened up space for up-and-comers like new entrants Justin Timberlake’s brand, William Rast and Christian Siriano, winner of the “Project Runway” television show. Which by the way, the finale for the still-unbroadcast season of the legally troubled series remains in jeopardy…

One of the amusements of the week is a show celebrating Barbie’s 50th anniversary. Fifty designers, including Michael Kors, created human-sized Barbie-inspired looks that were worn by real models, and then exhibited at Bloomingdale’s. For a quick peek, check out "The Barbie Runway Show," webcast live on www.barbie.com. Another special event was "The Heart Truth's Red Dress Collection 2009." Real life celebrities Katie Couric, Cloris Leachman, Tori Spelling and Jennie Garth are among the we-don't-do-this-every-day types celebrating the red dress as the national symbol for heart disease awareness.

Okay, so maybe retail can take a lesson from the tent shows, give America what it wants, a colorful diversion, something beautiful to look at, but scale back, join forces with your peers, move to less costly spaces, focus on affordable fashion, create special events, support charitable endeavors and think outside of the box.

Time permitting, check out my prior post on the tent shows, “The Hottest Ticket” posted on this very site on 09/04/07. I swear I do not have a crystal ball!

Courtesy of www.retaildesigndiva.com where it appeared on February 19, 2009

Stephen Sprouse Redoux

  

Photograph © Sindi Schorr 2009

Truth be told, Stephen Sprouse fell under my radar when he rose in prominence in the early to mid 1980's. This much I recall: he was a golden child and wildly talented. He was best known for using a day-glow inspired color palette, and managed to fuse a diverse rage of fashion idioms like punk, techno, geometrics, retro, Memphis, graffiti, cyber-glam, East Village chic and agit-prop in a psychotic and glorious mélange. He helped define the 1980s. He was the darling of the “in crowd” and hung out with Halston, Warhol, Billy Idol, Duran Duran, Steven Meisel and Debra Harry...the “fast crowd.

  

Photograph © Sindi Schorr 2009

Temperament trumped talent; there were the infamous bouts of erratic behavior, showing up days late for appointments, canceling major fashion shows the day before, moving his flagship store several times, poor management of the press and business, and despite the appearance of success, filing for bankruptcy. People who knew him loved him, but he was exhausting. His candle burned at both ends. While he worked consistently, he all but disappeared until his early death at age 50 from heart failure and lung cancer in 2004.

  

Photograph © Sindi Schorr 2009

Thanks to a recent retrospective, young people rediscovering the ’80s (I feel so old!) and the bestselling "The Stephen Sprouse Book," by Roger Padilha and Mauricio Padilha (with a foreword by Tama Janowitz), which was released by Rizzoli Press, he has re-emerged as relevant, hip and very apropos. His time has come again. If you still don’t get it, you will see Spouse’s imprinture referenced in many designer collections, including, but not limited to Marc Jacobs. Spouse’s fashion vocabulary is articulate, counter-cultural, edgy and joyful. If you are not familiar with his work, his influence and his ability to set a trend for this decade, here are a few photos from Louis Vuitton, which is currently devoting all their windows on Fifth Avenue and 57th Street to pay homage.

    

Photograph © Sindi Schorr 2009

Courtesy of  www.retaildesigndiva.com where it appeared on February 16, 2009

   

Truth be told, Stephen Sprouse fell under my radar when he rose in prominence in the early to mid 1980's. This much I recall: he was a golden child and wildly talented. He was best known for using a day-glow inspired color palette, and managed to fuse a diverse rage of fashion idioms like punk, techno, geometrics, retro, Memphis, graffiti, cyber-glam, East Village chic and agit-prop in a psychotic and glorious mélange. He helped define the 1980s. He was the darling of the “in crowd” and hung out with Halston, Warhol, Billy Idol, Duran Duran, Steven Meisel and Debra Harry...the “fast crowd.

  

Photograph © Sindi Schorr 2009

Temperament trumped talent; there were the infamous bouts of erratic behavior, showing up days late for appointments, canceling major fashion shows the day before, moving his flagship store several times, poor management of the press and business, and despite the appearance of success, filing for bankruptcy. People who knew him loved him, but he was exhausting. His candle burned at both ends. While he worked consistently, he all but disappeared until his early death at age 50 from heart failure and lung cancer in 2004.

  

Photograph © Sindi Schorr 2009

Thanks to a recent retrospective, young people rediscovering the ’80s (I feel so old!) and the bestselling "The Stephen Sprouse Book," by Roger Padilha and Mauricio Padilha (with a foreword by Tama Janowitz), which was released by Rizzoli Press, he has re-emerged as relevant, hip and very apropos. His time has come again. If you still don’t get it, you will see Spouse’s imprinture referenced in many designer collections, including, but not limited to Marc Jacobs. Spouse’s fashion vocabulary is articulate, counter-cultural, edgy and joyful. If you are not familiar with his work, his influence and his ability to set a trend for this decade, here are a few photos from Louis Vuitton, which is currently devoting all their windows on Fifth Avenue and 57th Street to pay homage.

    

Photograph © Sindi Schorr 2009

Courtesy of  www.retaildesigndiva.com where it appeared on February 16, 2009

   

Drama Queen

Photograph © Sindi Schorr 2008

One of the world’s finest mannequin houses is (Adel) Rootstein. Rootstein’s bailiwick is drawing from life, using (at great expense) live models, in particular famous models like Twiggy, Pat Cleveland, and most recently Agyness Deyn. Rootstein mannequins are distinguished for not being afraid to be dramatic, hyper-realistic, haughty, and at times romantically melancholic.

The photo is taken from a low point of view, thus elevating the expression, thus reiterating the upturned eye that seems exasperated. Make note of the way the hands frame the face, one going straight upwards, one going back, covering the ear as if to say “I don’t want to hear anything more”. The wild permed hair and the eyebrows that are sketched like chunky “Sharpie” slashes, creating a facial  tableau that is emotionally resonate. This is a mannequin that commands your attention. One cannot help but feel that there is some kind of a back stage scene going on, and that this supermodel has had enough! We could leave it alone at that, however this particular photo illustrates how gifted Schorr’s eye is. Schorr ventures forward. Schorr captures that magic element. Look at the way the silver bangles reflect the face, splinter it, reverse it, the reflections are almost like a fun house mirror, each bangle capturing a different emotional component. It reinforces the psychotic, schizophrenic sensibility of what the mannequin is conveying.

If you live nearby, please note the work of Sindi Schorr has not gone unnoticed. Ms. Schorr is showing in two upcoming prestigious exhibits…

Il Chiostro:

At the Broome Street Gallery in New York City (located at 498 Broome St. just East of West Broadway in SoHo) The exhibit is open Tuesday through Sunday, from 11:00 am to 6:00 pm, March 3^rd through the 15^th, 2009.
The Artists' Reception, to be held on Saturday, March 7th, 4:00 pm to 7:00 pm. Call for 212-226-6085 for further details.

Immigration: Community Culture & Change:

At the HP Gallery at Calumet Photo, 22 West 22^nd Street, 2^ndFloor, in New York City. The exhibit is open from March 9^th thru 21^st, 2009.  The Artists’ Reception, to be held on Friday, March 6^th from 6:00 pm to 8:00 pm. Sponsored in part by the Professional Women Photographers

Men In Clothes

  

It is a secret. Men will deny it, men may denounce you as a liar if you dare to suggest it, but the truth is self-evident, men despite the surveys, like getting dressed up.

Men at work. My eyes are on them. On the street cologned men with postures of preening roosters promenade up and down the avenue dressed in beautiful suits. They are on their way to work with carefully chosen starched shirts from Brooks Brothers, and imported red silk ties the color of a hemorrhage, to better exercise their control over the world of business. Bless them; they have replaced their “blanky” with their favorite tie, their rabbit’s foot, a good omen. Sometimes they are as steely as Matt Dillon (the Sheriff on “Gunsmoke“, not the “Flamingo Kid” actor) when they tuck their cells phones in their belt holsters as if it were a pistol. Would they protect my virtue? I dream. There are as many different kind of suits as there are men. I adore the words used to identify suits, blue serge, hounds tooth, tweed, pin stripe, Glen plaid, hop sack, Blackwatch tartan, and broadcloth, they conjure a kind of accidental incantation, doing a I don’t know, a kind of masculine witchcraft. A suit is like a kiss. It has the power to transform a frog into a prince.

Men at play. Some men are so pathetically cute. Grown men with graying hair at their temples still dress in their boyhood costumes. These weekend warriors wear their football jerseys and baseball caps with sneaker so grodey that no mother would ever allow on their freshly mopped kitchen floors. For a few pressing moments, they are Peter Pans. I have been to the park on the weekend; grown women do not wear their ballerina toole skirts, or nurses’ caps. Like a little boy and a puddle, adult men like taking a fall on the baseball field just to get dirty. A shinned knee is a badge of courage, if their girlfriend or wife is watching. Most amazingly, clustering together men will dress up in their costumes for the Super Bowl or Series Finals as if they were kids going to a Halloween party. They are dressed like the lost boys in Neverland.

Men who have never cut a pile of wood, plowed a field, or baited a hook since they were twelve, will extol the practical virtues of their Kelly green plaid flannels by LL Bean, Carhartt jackets, Sheppler’s and Timberland boots as they get into an air-conditioned cab, or line at Starbucks. These men are characters in a Hemingway short story; their attire conveys what they aspire to be, outdoorsmen, adventurers, explorers, builders and cowboys. Their clothing compensates for the patrician suburbs or anonymous burdens of the urban landscape. Their clothing is costume, it tells you what they have the capacity for...if, only if…

Men are so in love with their clothing that they will wear their underwear, socks and tee shirts until they have been shred beyond the capacity of the darner’s needle, and will be aghast that you suggest their socks are no longer fit to wear. You will risk bodily harm if you toss out their favorite “Grateful Dead” or “Clash” tee-shirt which they insists still fits them, which is doubtful since it was purchased when they were sixteen, and 50 pounds lighter. Men cling to their undergarments like their dreams, faded dreams like faded tee shirts too many times put through the washer. For too many men unarticulated dreams are better tattered than replaced by new ones. Luckily, men are made from clay and therefore malleable, they will adjust, incorporating new pieces into the fold.

Most men work just as hard at not looking dressed, they will spend untold time deciding to tuck, or un-tuck a shirt, and the now forced semi-tuck just behind the belt buckle. Men will face a quandary over just how far the knot of a tie can be loosened to convey, “casual”, but not too loose to be deemed “sloppy“. Men will strategize whether to belt, or un-belt a pair of ill-fitting jeans, once the bathroom scale has made its final pronouncement. Men will interpret how many shirt buttons can be undone publicly before it get slimy, three or four, will today’s sleeves be rolled over below, or rolled over above the elbow. Men want to pull together a look that does not read as an outfit. It requires great effort to just “throw something on”

The art of dressing is the art of life.

The Thinker

 

Photograph © Sindi Schorr 2008

Sometimes mannequins are as complicated as real people are. Here, a seated male, with platinum blonde hair may at first glance be simply dismissed as a metro-sexualized mannequin, almost feline with his coiffed eyebrows, sphinx like stare and arched claw like hand, but there is another layer at play here. Under analysis, the body language of the hand and its proximity to the chiseled chin tells us that we are to draw our eye to his jaw. He is almost scratching his chin, classic body language lexicon to suggest doubt or incredulity, i.e., “pulling one’s chin”. His lips are not fully closed, nor so animated as to actually suggest speech, but it almost suggests that he has either drawn or exhaled an almost audible breath. He is in active repose, if not come hither. His eyes are slightly cast down by the heavy brow that reinforces the sense that something has just happened, that he is weighing something heavy, almost trying to read something dubious. He is handsome, desirous and suggests a kind of quiet danger, as if he is about to spark, if not ignite.

Sculpted, I believe by Michael Katok, a Russian sculptor; manufactured by a French firm, Windows Mannequins (owned by COFRAD), he is sold here in the US by American representative, Goldsmith Mannequins.

Photography is a mostly unconscious art form. While the lens of the camera is an extension of our eye, it is also operates as an extension of our soul. Photography has the ability to capture the most visceral moments and magically encapsulate their narrative. Great photography reveals what we already see, but supplies an explanation

I just recently updated the “Sindi Schorr Photographs” album with a dozen fresh images as captured by Ms. Schorr. I invite you to spend a little time with them. Over the next few days, I will be selecting an image or two, to post. As always, I’ll be providing my analysis and commentary, but invite you to post your reactions as well

If you live nearby, please note the work of Sindi Schorr has not gone unnoticed. Ms. Schorr is showing in two upcoming prestigious exhibits…

Il Chiostro:

At the Broome Street Gallery in New York City (located at 498 Broome St. just East of West Broadway in SoHo) The exhibit is open Tuesday through Sunday, from 11:00 am to 6:00 pm, March 3^rd through the 15^th, 2009.
The Artists' Reception, to be held on Saturday, March 7th, 4:00 pm to 7:00 pm. Call for 212-226-6085 for further details.

Immigration: Community Culture & Change:

At the HP Gallery at Calumet Photo, 22 West 22^nd Street, 2^ndFloor, in New York City. The exhibit is open from March 9^th thru 21^st, 2009.  The Artists’ Reception, to be held on Friday, March 6^th from 6:00 pm to 8:00 pm. Sponsored in part by the Professional Women Photographers

Retail, Will You Be My Valentine?

 

 

 

 

Okay here is a pop-quiz, multiple choice…

Q: St. Valentine was…

A: A priest during the third century in Rome when Emperor Claudius II decided that single men made better soldiers than enlisted men with pesky wives and children, and therefore outlawed marriage for all young men so that the army could proliferate. (This was before the “Don’t ask, don’t tell” policy was rigorously enforced.) Valentine, realizing the injustice of the decree, defied Claudius and continued to perform marriages for young lovers in secret. Once caught Valentine tried to convert Claudius, who, although bemused, ordered that he be beaten, clubbed, stoned and beheaded, ouch!

B: St. Valentine was imprisoned for attempting to help Christians escape harsh Roman prisons where they were often beaten and tortured. (Don’t even mention the lion pit!) While in prison, it is believed that Valentine fell in love with a young girl who just happened to be the warden’s daughter, who visited him during his confinement. (Some girls go for those guys in prison; at least they know where they are at night.) Shortly before his execution, it is alleged that he wrote her a love letter, which he signed “From your Valentine,” an expression that is still in use today. In retribution, Valentine’s heart was sent to his paramour. Chocolates were not commercially available.

C: None of the above. “Valentine” literally means “as containing valor,” which derives indirectly from the attributes of the God Faunus, found in Roman mythology, and the pagan fertility festival of Lupercalia, which was celebrated in February, the beginning of spring in the Mediterranean. When the Christians rose in prominence, they ascribed the martyr’s name to the celebration.

D: All of the above

E: Who cares, Valentine’s Day is a brief reprieve from the winter doldrums, designed to expedite a post-holiday boost to the first financial quarter for retailers, chocolatiers, candy makers, Victoria’s Secret, perfume conglomerates, manufacturers of gag-gift boxer shorts, moderate-priced jewelers, florists, Hallmark, Russell Stover, white wine bottlers, spas and cookie bakers.

Least I be accused of not being a true romantic, I’m getting my beloved a gift card from Starbuck’s, and a celebrity bio from Barnes and Noble. This is going to be a tough Valentine’s Day for retailers. I encourage to shop and drink responsibly. Retail needs a Valentine. Retail, will you be my Valentine?

Courtesy of www.retaildesigndiva.com where it appeared on February 13, 2009

 

 

 

 

Okay here is a pop-quiz, multiple choice…

Q: St. Valentine was…

A: A priest during the third century in Rome when Emperor Claudius II decided that single men made better soldiers than enlisted men with pesky wives and children, and therefore outlawed marriage for all young men so that the army could proliferate. (This was before the “Don’t ask, don’t tell” policy was rigorously enforced.) Valentine, realizing the injustice of the decree, defied Claudius and continued to perform marriages for young lovers in secret. Once caught Valentine tried to convert Claudius, who, although bemused, ordered that he be beaten, clubbed, stoned and beheaded, ouch!

B: St. Valentine was imprisoned for attempting to help Christians escape harsh Roman prisons where they were often beaten and tortured. (Don’t even mention the lion pit!) While in prison, it is believed that Valentine fell in love with a young girl who just happened to be the warden’s daughter, who visited him during his confinement. (Some girls go for those guys in prison; at least they know where they are at night.) Shortly before his execution, it is alleged that he wrote her a love letter, which he signed “From your Valentine,” an expression that is still in use today. In retribution, Valentine’s heart was sent to his paramour. Chocolates were not commercially available.

C: None of the above. “Valentine” literally means “as containing valor,” which derives indirectly from the attributes of the God Faunus, found in Roman mythology, and the pagan fertility festival of Lupercalia, which was celebrated in February, the beginning of spring in the Mediterranean. When the Christians rose in prominence, they ascribed the martyr’s name to the celebration.

D: All of the above

E: Who cares, Valentine’s Day is a brief reprieve from the winter doldrums, designed to expedite a post-holiday boost to the first financial quarter for retailers, chocolatiers, candy makers, Victoria’s Secret, perfume conglomerates, manufacturers of gag-gift boxer shorts, moderate-priced jewelers, florists, Hallmark, Russell Stover, white wine bottlers, spas and cookie bakers.

Least I be accused of not being a true romantic, I’m getting my beloved a gift card from Starbuck’s, and a celebrity bio from Barnes and Noble. This is going to be a tough Valentine’s Day for retailers. I encourage to shop and drink responsibly. Retail needs a Valentine. Retail, will you be my Valentine?

Courtesy of www.retaildesigndiva.com where it appeared on February 13, 2009

Shopping For a Song

No, I am not bipolar, nor am I schizophrenic. Granted, I recently wrote about the dire news concerning the inevitable layoffs facing retail, so it may appear odd that I am encouraging readers to sing about retail, but there may be something to sing about, at least Dolly Parton and Bruce Springsteen seem to think so. They’ve all written songs about retail. They are in good company, a lot of today’s hippest most happening groups look to retail for some musical fodder. Truth be told, I do not own an MP3 Player or an Ipod, but I always wonder what people are listening to on theirs. Start charging up the engine to www.youtube.com

I culled the Internet conducting extensive research, which by the way only confirms that nearly every artist at some point or another has written a song about retail, from “Cole Porter‘s “Come to The Supermarket in Old Peking” to Harry Warren‘s “I Found A Million Dollar Baby In The 5 & 10 Cent Store”. Or even be still my heart, Neil Diamond, “I Think It’s Gonna Rain Today” (available on The Essential Neil Diamond, 1995) originally issued 1971, on his “Stones” album, only one of the best songs ever written about mannequins. “Scarecrows dressed in the latest styles, with frozen smiles to chase love away. Human kindness is overflowin', and I think it's goin’' to rain today“, but I’m certain that most of you readers don’t know who those composers are. So I went to straight top the source, www.avclub.com “Inventory: 12 Songs about Shopping” by Christopher Bahn, Jason Heller, Noel Murray, and Tasha Robinson who have complied their own list of current artists, here are a few of theirs, all worth checking out. Lest I be accused of gross plagiarism, I invite you to check out their site, as I’ve really just cobbled this together to spurn you on…

Jonathan Richman & The Modern Lovers, "Rockin' Shopping Center" (available on Jonathan Richman & The Modern Lovers) Richman warbles about wandering into a suburban shopping mall where all the brands are different from what he's used to seeing. Richman sympathizes with the mall itself, and its attempts to be hip, and cool, even while salesmen keep plastering logos over every available surface. "If I were a shopping center I'd sure be embarrassed," Richman apologizes. "I know I'd never get a date with some cute little building, like from Paris."

The Clash, still one of the coolest bands ever, "Lost In The Supermarket" (available on London Calling), Starting out from a childlike perspective, the song uses supermarkets as a metaphor for society, AKA a shop of horrors, not unlike a twisted slasher movie, full of echoes, silence, isolation, and helplessness. By the end of the song, Joe Strummer (lead vocalist) now older, is lonelier, and clutching at "…coupons from packets of tea”, he has come full circle; even his misery is recycled like the plastic packaging. It’s as angrily poetic as Sylvia Plath.

They Might Be Giants, "I Am A Grocery Bag" (available on NO!) Begs the existential question how does it feel to be the object being used for shopping, rather than the shopper? They Might Be Giants seem to have the answer in this economical 30-second song about things you might find inside a paper sack at the supermarket. The complete list: “juices, muffins, pasta, cheese, milk, biscuits, cocktail sauce, salsa, pickles, organic grains, fresh coffee, bagels, pudding, soap, baby formula and ham. Thank you, and come again“. Just brilliant!

The Jam, "Shopping" (available on Gold) Dripping with the guilt of lower middle-class punk kids who suddenly have all the money in the world to waste, and nothing of substance to waste it on. The Jam deflates fashion fueled materialism with disillusioned with verses like "As I flit from shop window to window, I'm trying to pick up a friendly bargain, but it's not like the adverts all make out, and there's no one to greet you as a friend". Were they listening to Neil Diamond?

Dolly Parton, who doesn‘t adore Dolly? "The Bargain Store" (available on The Essential Dolly Parton) Ms. Parton presents shopping as metaphor, as Parton explains how her life is "like unto a bargain store," because she might have what you're looking for "if you don't mind the fact that all the merchandise is used." Among the merchandise, “a broken heart and broken dreams“, ready to trade for a future.

Bruce Springsteen, "Used Cars" (available on Nebraska) Over a muted acoustic guitar, fellow NJ native, Springsteen tells a wry, bitter autobiographical story about watching his father haggling over a used car, then driving the family home. His dad's stewing over the lousy deal he got; his mom's sitting quietly, while his sister's blowing the horn, as the neighbors come outside to check it out, quietly scoffing at the not-so-new set of wheels. Springstein is so mortified that he's already figured out his main goal in life: "I ain't ever going to ride in no used car again." Thus, another American dream is born the way only the Boss can describe it.

Billy Bragg, who I used to idolize when he performed at Maxwell’s in Hoboken, NJ "The Busy Girl Buys Beauty" (available on Between The Wars) It's only to be expected that rock's most outspoken artist-anarchist-anti-Christ would view shopping with his unerring eye. In this song from Bragg's angst-ridden 1983 debut EP, he mocks the notion at the heart of the modern advertising industry, namely, that a person can simply buy happiness as long as she "buys what she's told to buy." But he isn't being a Grinch, his proletarian anger isn't directed at the girls trying to buy their way into better lives, but the lies they're fed that try to get them to hand over cash for a chance at a mostly illusory "mail-order paradise."

What pray tell are your favorite songs about retail, fashion, shopping, and consumerism? What’s on your Ipod?

The Latest Thing In Fashion: Pink Slips

Despite its inviting, feminine-sounding name, the latest thing in fashion and retail is not a new kind of undergarment from Victoria’s Secret. It’s a good bit more ominous—the pink slip—and an awful lot of people are going to be getting them.

It is estimated that one in every five Americans works in retail, or a subsidiary retail-oriented job. It is predicted that the U.S. retail industry will cut jobs and layoff employees in unprecedented numbers in 2009. In 2008, retailers eliminated more than 500,000 jobs, which is a notable 20 percent of the 2.6 million layoffs that occurred in the United States overall.

Here’s an abbreviated list of who’s already handing out pink slips…

30,000 Circuit City; 10,915 KB Toys; 9,000 Goody's; 7,000 Macy’s; 7,000 Home Depot; 7,000 Starbucks; 2,200 Office Depot; 1,150 Bon-Ton; 1,400 Williams-Sonoma; 1,140 Target; 1,100 Saks; 1,000 Walgreen's; 1,000 Bose; 800 Talbot's; 500 Best Buy; 375 Neiman Marcus; 350 Ethan Allen; 332 Yankee Candle; 310 New York & Co.; 300 Sears; 225 Charming Shoppes; 209 Stein Mart; 200 J.C. Penney; 193 Eddie Bauer; 180 Chico's; 180 Ann Taylor; 100 Barnes & Noble; 100 Google; and 51 Wet Seal.

These are not numbers…these are people—real people, our friends and our families.

I feel for the corporate offices who need to let go of employees who they know have worked hard, demonstrated their loyalty, devoted their lives and help drive sales. I’ve never heard of any company looking forward to letting talent go.

I feel for the remaining staff whose corporate morale may be sacrificed. For the additional toll that “picking up the slack” will entail, and the doubtful chance that they will be better compensated despite the additional responsibilities lodged upon their shoulders. A staff constantly looking over their back, and set on the guard to see if the sword of Damocles will fall on them next.

But mostly, I feel (as we all do) for the thousands and thousands of workers who will be clearing off their desks. Some training their assistants to take over their positions. Then tearfully saying good-bye to friends and surrogate family, to face an uncertain world, where they will be competing with others more or less qualified for any job, doing any menial task, so that they can pay their rent and keep food on their families’ tables.

Most surveys confirm that the general mood of Americans is optimistic, and while there is no “quick fix” to quell the economic crisis, that we believe that things will turn around soon, in a year or two. That may seem (for some) a very long way off. However, time does fly by.

Back in the 1940's, coming out of the Great Depression and heading into the war years, Americans rationed food, bought war bonds when they went to the movies, recycled aluminum, tin and nylons, planted Victory gardens and rolled bandages for the Red Cross. They had little, but they still came to the fore and contributed to the best of their abilities. They too believed that better times were just around the corner.

We, by comparison, are so spoiled! If we really are committed to a better future, I wish there was some way that we could all actively participate in reducing more layoffs, like a penny tax--a one cent surcharge for every dollar spent to be used (set aside) in a fund to underwrite salaries. I do not have deep pockets, but one percent of a $100 purchase is just one dollar. If my grandmother could do it, I know I can.

Courtesy of www.retaildesigndiva.com where it appeared on February 10, 2009

 

Despite its inviting, feminine-sounding name, the latest thing in fashion and retail is not a new kind of undergarment from Victoria’s Secret. It’s a good bit more ominous—the pink slip—and an awful lot of people are going to be getting them.

It is estimated that one in every five Americans works in retail, or a subsidiary retail-oriented job. It is predicted that the U.S. retail industry will cut jobs and layoff employees in unprecedented numbers in 2009. In 2008, retailers eliminated more than 500,000 jobs, which is a notable 20 percent of the 2.6 million layoffs that occurred in the United States overall.

Here’s an abbreviated list of who’s already handing out pink slips…

30,000 Circuit City; 10,915 KB Toys; 9,000 Goody's; 7,000 Macy’s; 7,000 Home Depot; 7,000 Starbucks; 2,200 Office Depot; 1,150 Bon-Ton; 1,400 Williams-Sonoma; 1,140 Target; 1,100 Saks; 1,000 Walgreen's; 1,000 Bose; 800 Talbot's; 500 Best Buy; 375 Neiman Marcus; 350 Ethan Allen; 332 Yankee Candle; 310 New York & Co.; 300 Sears; 225 Charming Shoppes; 209 Stein Mart; 200 J.C. Penney; 193 Eddie Bauer; 180 Chico's; 180 Ann Taylor; 100 Barnes & Noble; 100 Google; and 51 Wet Seal.

These are not numbers…these are people—real people, our friends and our families.

I feel for the corporate offices who need to let go of employees who they know have worked hard, demonstrated their loyalty, devoted their lives and help drive sales. I’ve never heard of any company looking forward to letting talent go.

I feel for the remaining staff whose corporate morale may be sacrificed. For the additional toll that “picking up the slack” will entail, and the doubtful chance that they will be better compensated despite the additional responsibilities lodged upon their shoulders. A staff constantly looking over their back, and set on the guard to see if the sword of Damocles will fall on them next.

But mostly, I feel (as we all do) for the thousands and thousands of workers who will be clearing off their desks. Some training their assistants to take over their positions. Then tearfully saying good-bye to friends and surrogate family, to face an uncertain world, where they will be competing with others more or less qualified for any job, doing any menial task, so that they can pay their rent and keep food on their families’ tables.

Most surveys confirm that the general mood of Americans is optimistic, and while there is no “quick fix” to quell the economic crisis, that we believe that things will turn around soon, in a year or two. That may seem (for some) a very long way off. However, time does fly by.

Back in the 1940's, coming out of the Great Depression and heading into the war years, Americans rationed food, bought war bonds when they went to the movies, recycled aluminum, tin and nylons, planted Victory gardens and rolled bandages for the Red Cross. They had little, but they still came to the fore and contributed to the best of their abilities. They too believed that better times were just around the corner.

We, by comparison, are so spoiled! If we really are committed to a better future, I wish there was some way that we could all actively participate in reducing more layoffs, like a penny tax--a one cent surcharge for every dollar spent to be used (set aside) in a fund to underwrite salaries. I do not have deep pockets, but one percent of a $100 purchase is just one dollar. If my grandmother could do it, I know I can.

Courtesy of www.retaildesigndiva.com where it appeared on February 10, 2009