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

Swatch Out

My first watch was a Timex that my grandfather bought at the local drugstore when I was 12. You had to wind it up, but John Cameron Swayze said it was so reliable you could place it on the rudder of a speedboat, and drag it through the Florida Everglades, and “It would still take a licking, and keep on ticking.” It broke by the sixth grade.
 
The Swatch watch entered the market around 1983-1984, quickly catching on because it was fun, fashionable and affordable (less than $50). It was plastic, colorful and lightweight, adding to its distinctive appeal. It quickly became a “collectible.” I still have my original gray face/blue band Swatch that my neighbor, Gaby Jochnowitz,  bought me on El Al, when she was coming home from Israel where she was working on a Kibbutz.  I even kept the original case and sleeve instructions. It’s in mint condition (battery is dead), but all offers will be entertained. 
 

The meaning of the name "Swatch" was a derivative of "Second Watch," because this new watch was usually the buyer’s secondary watch, it was practically a disposable accessory. However, another version of the story suggests that it is the contraction of Swiss (Made) Watch, hence, "S'Watch," soon becoming "Swatch" as it’s known today, but I digress…
 

Without any re-branding or re-marketing goal, the Swatch store on Broadway and 44th Street just underwent a massive overhaul.  It’s a well-trodden location attracting locals and tourists. The store is beautifully executed. Kudos! 
 
There is at first the white-on-white interior with oversize graphics, usually done so cliché ridden and hackneyed, but I have to give it up to the designer--it’s really smartly pulled together, and the off whites are really rich in hue and intensity, so you can see the watches from across the street (Planet Hollywood).

 

 

 

 

 

 

The case lines are a series of undulating and interlocking shapes reminiscent of watch gears offered in differing heights, sizes and shapes, so that the floor can be set in any number of configurations, based on need, new product and altering the traffic pattern. It’s scathingly inventive. The case lines are relatively low to the ground so that the Swatches look more like museum pieces.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Wow, there are even soft foamy couches that hug the case lines for weary shoppers. Best of all are the oversize linear chandeliers that are not faceted with crystals, but instead have series of colorful Swatches dangling down like prisms. It’s just so simple and clever when you realize that a Swatch can make a groovy lampshade too. This is a really great store!
 
When I think of all the ways the store could have gone, when I think of all the ways designers create stores that fail to understand the product, let alone the customer, I have to say, Swatch seems to have done everything right.
 
P.S. The watches are still the best value in the world today!

Courtesy of www.retaildesigndiva.com where it appeared on October 27, 2009

 

My first watch was a Timex that my grandfather bought at the local drugstore when I was 12. You had to wind it up, but John Cameron Swayze said it was so reliable you could place it on the rudder of a speedboat, and drag it through the Florida Everglades, and “It would still take a licking, and keep on ticking.” It broke by the sixth grade.
 
The Swatch watch entered the market around 1983-1984, quickly catching on because it was fun, fashionable and affordable (less than $50). It was plastic, colorful and lightweight, adding to its distinctive appeal. It quickly became a “collectible.” I still have my original gray face/blue band Swatch that my neighbor, Gaby Jochnowitz,  bought me on El Al, when she was coming home from Israel where she was working on a Kibbutz.  I even kept the original case and sleeve instructions. It’s in mint condition (battery is dead), but all offers will be entertained. 
 

The meaning of the name "Swatch" was a derivative of "Second Watch," because this new watch was usually the buyer’s secondary watch, it was practically a disposable accessory. However, another version of the story suggests that it is the contraction of Swiss (Made) Watch, hence, "S'Watch," soon becoming "Swatch" as it’s known today, but I digress…
 

Without any re-branding or re-marketing goal, the Swatch store on Broadway and 44th Street just underwent a massive overhaul.  It’s a well-trodden location attracting locals and tourists. The store is beautifully executed. Kudos! 
 
There is at first the white-on-white interior with oversize graphics, usually done so cliché ridden and hackneyed, but I have to give it up to the designer--it’s really smartly pulled together, and the off whites are really rich in hue and intensity, so you can see the watches from across the street (Planet Hollywood).

 

 

 

 

 

 

The case lines are a series of undulating and interlocking shapes reminiscent of watch gears offered in differing heights, sizes and shapes, so that the floor can be set in any number of configurations, based on need, new product and altering the traffic pattern. It’s scathingly inventive. The case lines are relatively low to the ground so that the Swatches look more like museum pieces.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Wow, there are even soft foamy couches that hug the case lines for weary shoppers. Best of all are the oversize linear chandeliers that are not faceted with crystals, but instead have series of colorful Swatches dangling down like prisms. It’s just so simple and clever when you realize that a Swatch can make a groovy lampshade too. This is a really great store!
 
When I think of all the ways the store could have gone, when I think of all the ways designers create stores that fail to understand the product, let alone the customer, I have to say, Swatch seems to have done everything right.
 
P.S. The watches are still the best value in the world today!

Courtesy of www.retaildesigndiva.com where it appeared on October 27, 2009

A Picture Is Worth A Thousand Words

Dear Readers,

There is beauty and wonder all around us, which most definitely includes retailers windows. I'm sorting through a few recent photos of window displays to share with you. There is no theme. Just randomly shot images. I'm not going to identify the stores but they do represent some of America's upper eschelon of retailers. While I usually provide a commentary, analysis or narrative, I'm going to encourage you to write in with your assessment. So I'll ask you...What do you think? How do they make you feel? What do you think the retailer is trying to convey? As always I eagerly await your reply. Don't be shy!

Sincerely,

The Bespoken for...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

The Man Who Cut Edison's Hair

Mr. Jaye had a barbershop on South Orange Avenue. His shop had three chairs. Mr. Jaye always worked in the chair closest to the window. His shop always looked busy. Mr. Jaye believed in Bay Rum and Barb-a-sol. Mr. Jaye shaved the back of your neck with a silver straight edge razor that he swiped angrily on a leather strap. Mr. Jaye spayed the back of your neck with rubbing alcohol, which was dried by slapping the back of your neck with a Turkish hand towel. Mr. Jaye squeezed your cheeks hard to make your head move this way or that. Mr. Jaye expected compliancy. Mr. Jaye wore a white smock like a surgeon. Mr. Jaye always asked how long you wanted your sideburns, then cut them short…his way. Mr. Jaye was a traditionalist. Mr. Jaye was a gentleman. Mr. Jaye gave away cherry lollipops with loops (not sticks).

Mr. Jaye had a hand painted billboard that said “HAVE YOUR HAIR CUT BY THE MAN WHO CUT THOMAS ALVA EDISON’S HAIR”. Mr. Jaye was a marketing genius. There were barbers and hair salons all over South Orange, but very man stopped at Mr. Jaye’s to get their haircut, by the man who cut Thomas Alva Edison’s hair. It was a point of honor.

Thomas Alva Edison passed away in 1931. Edison was the archetypical American inventor. Every young boy read about Edison in school. Every time we bought a light bulb, I thought about its inventor, Edison ushering in the age of light. When Mr. Jaye was still a student in a Tonsorial Trade School, he was sent to the Edison Labs in West Orange, NJ to cut Edison’s hair. Edison was already aged, deaf, reportedly curmudgeonly and an infamous work-o-holic, who had precious little time to relax in a barbershop, so a barber was dispatched to him. Mr. Jaye knew just how to cut Edison’s hair just, the way Edison liked it. Mr. Jaye assuredly did not give Edison a lollipop.

More than thirty-five years had passed (since 1931) when I sat in Mr. Jays chair. Mr. Jaye was “old school” even for those days. He charged .75 cents for a haircut, but always facetiously asked for “two bits” (.25 cents). Mr. Jaye always reminded me that I was a nice boy, from a good family, and warned me about growing my hair too long…like one of those…you know…hippies (insert look of revulsion and disgust). Mr. Jaye always reminded me (and every young boy who sat in his chair) that we could be anything…this was America…who knows, I could even become the next Edison, which at ten I totally bought into, after all Mr. Jaye actually knew Edison, who else would know better? Mr. Jaye influenced my life. For the price of a haircut, Edison came back to life in Mr. Jaye’s eyes. Edison was not just resigned to history books, or an old Spenser Tracey movie. Edison lived and worked just a few blocks ways, no more than an adventuresome boy’s bicycles ride away.

When Mr. Jaye retired the billboard slowly wore off the brick façade like a memory. Now only the faintest outline of the perimeter is evident. The words are indecipherable. Mr. Jaye is long gone, as is Edison, but I sometimes think that the hands that once cut Edison’s hair, once cut mine.

PS: Mr. Jaye was married to a kindergarten teacher, Mary Tinnan Jaye, an emancipated woman who kept her maiden name through out her career. Mary Tinnan Jaye wrote “Making Music Your Own” which remains decades after its first printing, the single most influential music primer in grade schools through out the United States.

Love On A Rooftop and Grape Jelly

Sometimes we really are dopes! Everywhere we look the words “green” and “sustainability” filter into our consciousness…as well they should. We tend to think of ourselves as being superior to generations past, whom we tend to think of as polluters. There may be some truth to that, but it’s not the whole story.

Retailers, listen up I have a million-dollar idea for you! Okay, I didn’t actually think it up, but give me some credit.

Last night, I was watching the implausible 1966 TV sit-com “Love on A Rooftop,” starring the very cute Peter Deuel as Dave, and even cuter Judy Carne (pre-“Laugh In”) as Julie. They’re a young, optimistic, newly married couple trying to get by on his miserly starting architect's salary of $68.50 a week. All they can afford to rent is an old storeroom (with no windows) on top of a high rise (no one else would rent it). By the way, it’s like a 30-story high rise with no elevator, but who cares, it’s the ‘60s, and they are young and in love, and, more importantly, happen to have access to the roof...hence “Love On A Rooftop,” where Julie uses the skylight as a table when she has company, and she hangs her laundry out to dry on the residents' TV antennas (very green). Did I mention that the rooftop overlooks the Golden Gate Bridge?

Okay, so Dave is eating his breakfast when is overbearing father-in-law drops in and spots him eating peanut butter for breakfast, and bellows, “Why are you eating peanut butter…for breakfast?” “I eat peanut butter and jelly every morning,” replies Dave. “But, why?” protests his father-in-law. Dave, with his dimpled smile, plaintively states, “Well, we need the glasses, and Julie wants to complete the set!” The father-in-law is none too pleased that his baby (Julie) is drinking out of peanut butter and jelly glasses.

Like a repressed memory, the floodgates open, and I recall that when I grew up (in 1968, I was 11 years old), we always recycled our peanut butter and jelly glasses. We never threw them away. We kept them. They were not made of non-recyclable, benzene-ridden plastic with a screw-on lid; they were recyclable drinking glasses with a pop off cap. They were decorated with colorful prints of daises, “The Flintstones,” “Batman” and the Presidents of The United States (there were only 36 at the time). So not only did you get a jar of Welch’s grape jelly or Skippy peanut butter, but you had a reusable glass (for free!). Less landfill! Less carbon footprint! Brilliant!

So food manufacturers, give consumers an incentive to buy your product, which is sitting quietly next to your competitors--give us free glasses. In today’s economy, who wouldn't want a pretty drinking glass, for free? Help us to recycle, reuse, renew. Okay, skip the corny old-fashioned commercial ties ins; instead, have some designer do a limited-edition jar. I’d pay twice the amount for a Burberry Plaid peanut butter glass, and maybe three times the amount for an Alexander McQueen grape jelly jar.

Ka-Ching! That’s the sound of a happy customer going home with your product!

Courtesy of www.retaildesigndiva.com where it appeared on October 22, 2009

A Week of Williams and a Little Light

A few days ago, I posted about former/current heartthrob Andy Williams. Today I focus on two other Williams’, or is it Williami, like cacti? On Saturday, last, I attended a special event “Fearless” honoring Vanessa Williams. The event was hosted by LIM Fashion Education Foundation (where rest assured, in an effort to provide complete disclosure, I am duly employed). The event’s proceeds benefit the LIM Education Foundation Scholarship Fund. LIM is the school, where business meets fashion. The event was held the showroom of luxury retailer PORTS 1961 who was a primary sponsor. It's a well appointed showroom right out of the set of "Ugly Betty" with sumptuous fashion and a terrace that looks out onto the magical New York landscape. Someday soon I will write a post on PORTS 1961 who do extraordinary work. Before I fill you on all the salient details on Ms. Williams, let me tell you that also in attendance was Wendy Williams (no relation to Andy or Vanessa). Hence, three Williams in a week. Is God trying to tell me something?

Vanessa Williams is currently best known for her Emmy Award nominated performance on ABC’s uber -hit,” Ugly Betty”, as fashion magazine editor, Wilhelmina Slater, which is played to fierce perfection. Ms. Williams was the first person of color to win the Miss America Pageant, back in 1983. Her 25 year career is seasoned with over 16 film performances, 22 roles for television, not including a dozen guest appearances, 8 major stage roles, several of which were on a little something called Broadway, a whopping 16 Grammy Award nominations, and well over 50 other major award nominations that run the gamut from The Academy Award, the NAACP Award for Distinguishment, the Drama League Award, to a Teen Choice Award. An unfathomable accomplishment. Given the dearth of work available to people of color, Ms. Williams has not taken on, but surpassed expectations for roles usually set aside for Caucasians only. Ms. Williams has thus cast open doors for people of color with greater panache than Loretta Young use too. While Ms. Williams was twice blessed with both extraordinary beauty, and a god-given talent for music, voice, dance, and acting, it’s important to note that unlike some of her peers, despite periodic setbacks, she has never squandered her talent. Ms. Williams is articulate and intelligent; two attributes when coupled with beauty that tend to mar most individuals, but in this instance help to create the ultimate trifecta of performance.

 

pictured with Ms. Williams is Ms. Judith McAllister, avid fan

Ms. Williams may play a diva, but she arrives on time. She is constantly interrupted by students, fans, faculty, and wait staff that want an autograph, want her to sign their Pocahontas CD, want a picture, want to shake her hand, want to touch her to see if she is real, want to tell her their personal story. Ms. Williams pleasantly accords them all the time they need, and then gets back to her guests (her friends and colleagues) that have paid over 100.00 to attend the event. Ms. Williams is in a tight black sheath dress (that I believe is by Carmen Marc Valvo) that embraces her curves, and reminds us that women with confidence need not come in the traditional hipless template. Ms. Williams with her pale eyes and warm complexion smiles without effort, and is always reassuring. Even crownless, she is more a Miss America than Bess Meyerson and Phyllis George put together. Her hair (alas, extensions) is tussled, and frames her face that she boldly has announced is subjected to periodic Botex injections. Ms. Williams swoons, fawns, coos, purrs, and seems both outrageously flirtatious with guests, and yet is strangely uncomfortable with being in the spotlight, or at least receiving yet another ward. Ms. Williams is introduced by her mother, Helen, who herself is a stunning beauty of indeterminate age. Helen Williams takes the opportunity to also charm us, she tells us how she is not going to mention all the embarrassing episodes from Vanessa’s angst ridden adolescence, like how she slammed her bedroom door so many times that her father, Milton (now deceased) took the door of the hinges to one up the unruly teen. Clearly, Ms. Williams comes from an intact family with healthy egos. Now I’m in love. I’m DVRing “Ugly Betty” and fast forwarding to Vanessa‘s scenes!

 

pictured with Ms. Williams is Ms. Judith McAllister, avid fan
 
Wendy Williams is not a doppelganger for Vanessa Williams, yet some contrasts and comparison can be drawn. Ms. (Wendy) Williams also pretends to be a diva, by arriving fashionably late with entourage, all who are perfectly nice and charming. There are no fits or fusses. Ms. (Wendy) Williams, with a far less distinguished career is subjected to the same demands of her public, perhaps a bit more so. Ms. (Wendy) Williams creates a kind of minor mania; she however invites it, and seems to revel in it. Ms. (Wendy) Williams is also wearing a tight sheath dress that is… how can I say this nicely …more conspicuous. She has a questionable coif comprised of several odd extensions. E Gads! Ms. (Wendy) Williams is 5’11” in her stocking feet, she is wearing heels, which she points out cost a fortune, and “hurts like hell, but hey, they look good!” Ms. (Wendy) Williams invites us to touch her stomach. (I can’t see Vanessa doing that). Wendy asserts is all her, “Yes”, she reports,” I’ve had a tummy tuck…but I’m not wearing any Spanx…like some of these girls! (She point towards the direction of the crowds). She is intentionally outrageous like a precocious child, needy and not self-assured. Ms. (Wendy) Williams is outrageous, articulating too often exactly, what we are really thinking, but politely repressing. Ms. (Wendy) Williams does not filter her speech or behavior. There is no veil, which is why we seem to adore her. There is a genuineness, and authentic person there. I am in love. Okay, I’m fickle.

Also, present at the event is actress, Judith Light, who plays Claire Meade, on “Ugly Betty“. She too is radiant and richly dressed in a smart black velvet pantsuit that drapes beautifully over her slim silhouette. She will go home that evening with her handsome husband, the silvery, cleft chinned Robert Desidero (actor) hand in hand. Romance still blooms, and in New York City! I am green with envy. Ms. Light has had a very nice career indeed, but how can I not mention her consistent work supporting LGBT charities like The Matthew Shepard Foundation, The LA Gay & Lesbian Center and AMFAR. Ms. Light has been a tireless AIDS activist and helped bring many projects to fruition like “The Ryan White Story“. Anyone should be honored to have such a friend. Clearly, Ms. (Vanessa) Williams attracts quality.

A week of Williams and a little Light, How perfect!

Dear Readers,

You know that I prefer to focus on positive and affirming stories. I seldom venture into sharing negative or nasty profiles, if I’m privy to something mean spirited, or unbecoming (and I often am) I just turn a blind eye and dismiss it for others to ponder. Well I’m going to make an exception to my rule. No I won’t mention any names, or engage in mud slinging, but what was a flawlessly executed event was disrupted by a surly, intoxicated, chain-smoking individual who was rude, dressed inappropriately, and made me rethink her illustrious career. We had never met, but her reputation is legendary. She may be known for her exquisite taste, and for her gifted hand in styling, but all the talent in the world does not excuse making fun of others, making faces at others, sticking out your tongue, and name-calling. I won't say she was vulgar, but she could have given the Visigoths lessons. I understand the role of artistic temperament, egocentricity, and self-aggrandizement, but cruelty is never fashionable! I will not be renting “The Devil Wears Prada” no matter how great the clothing looks!

A GarGANTuan Event: GANT's 60th Anniversary

"Suddenly, with a strained sound, Daisy bent her head into the shirts and began to cry stormily. "They're such beautiful shirts" she sobbed, her voice muffled in the thick folds. "It makes me sad because I've never seen such...such beautiful shirts before." from The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald

   
 
I too have extolled the virtues of the shirt in my post "A History of the Shirt" on August 21, 2009. Shirts come up periodically in my posts. Like my post "I GANT Believe It!" on October 18^th, 2008. Gant is a retailer that I periodically follow, and I frequently post images of their Fifth Avenue store window on my site. Hence, my article today on GANT’s 60th Anniversary. GANT was founded in 1949. This may seem stunningly far away, but not when you place it in some historical perspective.

1949, was distinguished by many notable firsts, the births of Bruce Springsteen, Meryl Steep, Philippe Starck, and Twiggy. Well, they are still relevant, actively employed, and looking awfully good. In 1949, the Broadway premiere of "South Pacific opened on Broadway. The current revival of "South Pacific" is still playing to capacity crowds at New York's Lincoln Center. In 1949, the first Volkswagen Beetle and Polaroid Camera were sold in the US. Okay, they are long gone, but remain iconic. In 1949, Helen Keller was denounced as a Communist, by Republican Senators while the Soviet Union tested its first atomic bomb. Today President Obama is being denounced as a Marxist by Republican Senators while North Korea tests its atomic bombs.

Personally, if I had a few dollars to invest, I'd place it on the one consistently good retailer, GANT, founded in 1949. I love GANT because they personify the all-American amalgams of Prep School, Ivy League, East Coast, intellectualism, Kennedyesque, outdoorsy sportswear. GANT has a European sensibility with American heritage. GANT is an innovator. GANT was the first shirt manufacturer to place a small button on the back of the collar to keep your tie from shifting. GANT was the first retailer to place a "locker loop" on the back of box pleat of their shirts so that it could be hung up without a hanger...brilliant.

Before I wax too poetic, let me tell you that this Thursday, the 23rd, GANT is hosting a flagship location event from 6:00 to 8:00 pm. In addition to visiting their beautiful store, there will be a special window presentation (to be revealed). They will give away a year's supply of their classic "Rugger" Shirt to some lucky participant. They will have a special limited edition set of prints of their historical imagery that will be given away as gifts. They are showcasing archival product. A new collectible catalog will be available. And naturally there will be the requisite drinks and hors d'œuvres presented by attractive servers. It promises to be a wonderful evening, and you are invited, providing you RSVP immediately to details_RSVP@condenast.com if your name is not on the guest list, please do not try to crash, admittance will be checked at the door.

GANT is sometimes compared to Ralph Lauren in look. In truth, GANT precedes Lauren, Granted, Lauren may trump GANT in the battle of prominence. While I may love Lauren, it is an aspiration label. I will never be able to afford its price tags or participate in its lifestyle. I mean really can you see me with a croquet rack or sail boating on the Long Island Sound. No, I'm more comfortable with GANT's inspirational persona. Prices for a shirt at GANT will run the gamut from the affordable 99.00, for the finest cotton available in the world today, and will run up to 295.00 for a cashmere shirt. Please note: its real cashmere, and not that cheap pilling stuff that most manufacturers offer up as cashmere.

Here is what you need to know about what distinguishes GANT’s iconic line of shirts...

 

The Pullover: is inspired by one of the oldest GANT shirts found in their archives, which originated between 1949 and 1954. GANT was one of the first brands to combine a classic oxford button-down with the silhouette of a leisure shirt. (A manufacturer that understands how men are really shaped be still my heart). It's usually sold in a handsome solid blue oxford cloth, with the original button-down collar, a flap pocket, irregular matte finish mother of pearl buttons and hand sewn button holes, (HAND SEWN!!!) and you get a narrow Oxford locker loop on back.

 

The Cashmere: is a brightly colored cashmere check, which originates from the 1960's GANT wool shirt of a similar design called "the Woolster". This version has been upgraded to the sublimely soft touch of cashmere and cotton. It's a refined GANT classic of 80/20 cotton/cashmere. It includes the original button-down collar, a flap pocket, irregular matte finish mother of pearl buttons and a narrow oxford locker loop on back.

The Rugger: is a natural fusion between two of GANT's most classic items, the oxford button-down and Rugby shirt, which launched in the early 1970's. GANT was the first manufacturer to create a Rugby shirt so beautiful and masculine that men wore it off the field! There's a basket weave banker stripe with flap pocket and white twill collar. It is lovingly made with irregular matte finish mother of pearl buttons, with natural rubber buttons on the upper placket. (If you've never played sports outdoors when it's bracingly cold out, then you might not be aware of the benefits of a rubber button! Trust me, it makes all the difference.) The Rugger shirt has the original hem print and narrow oxford locker loop on back too.

 
 
The Hugger: is the original slim fit, recreated from vintage GANT fabric with one notable improvement... the old school polyester mix was replaced with a perfect pattern replica in the finest cotton. It was a sensation in the late 1960's when it was introduced. GANT was one of the first to introduce a slim fitting shirt to American sportswear. The shirt comes in an archival poplin check, original button collar, and original button down flap pocket, irregular matt finish mother of pearl buttons and hand sewn buttonholes, original hem print, narrow oxford locker loop on back.

 

The Sea Island: is only offered in the finest cotton known to man. This is the shirt that made Daisy weep. It's a two-ply yarn made from 100% Sea Island cotton grown exclusively in the British West Indies. Think of the purity of the soil content. Every batch of this handpicked crop is inspected, and issued with a certification of authenticity. Created in Albini Sea Island fabric, in a slim fit, original button-down collar with back collar button, classic pocket, irregular matt finish mother of pearl buttons and hand sewn buttonholes, original hem print, and narrow oxford locker loop on back.

The Hubby: a "boyfriend shirt worn by women features hand sewn buttonholes and thick mother of pearl buttons to emphasize how GANT is always about quality. A historical note, the signature locker loop used to be called the "lucky loop" because girls (back in the day) would rip the loop off the shirts of the guys they thought were cute. A practice that might be well worth reintroducing.

If you can't make it to the event than at least make it to the GANT website www.gant.com

Easy Listening: With Andy Williams

I am twelve; I am not yet an official teenager, according to the consensus of South Orange Junior High. Its 1969, and I’m watching “The Andy Williams Christmas Special” with his adorable wife French wife, Claudine Longet. Andy and his family (consisting of several small and compliant children) are wearing coordinating red sweaters with white scarves that end with giant pom-poms. Andy is singing, “It’s The Most Wonderful Time of the Year” while Styrofoam snowflakes cascade down. In the background a retinue of dancers are “pretend ice skating“. The show is filmed in Hollywood (probably in August). Regardless, this is how I presume Christmas in California to be. I, alas, have a New Jersey Christmas, with freezing rain, and temperatures that hover around 36 face-slapping degrees. My family does not sing, wear matching outfits or engage in pretend ice-skating. I want Andy Williams to adopt me!

Now I am fifty-one, and not yet an official senior citizen according to the AARP. It’s 2009, and I’m watching Andy Williams (live, in person) at a performance, book, and CD signing at Barnes & Noble, on Broadway at 66^th Street, in NYC. Forty years have passed faster than you can say, “This show is presented to you in living color”. (Insert cheesy peacock). Mr. Williams is singing a medley of Oscar winning songs like “Moon River”, “The Day’s of Wine and Roses” , “Born Free“, the Theme to “Charade“, the theme to “Love Story” and the theme to “The Godfather”. (Does anyone out there remember when movies had themes? “Star Wars” doesn’t count!)

Andy Williams is 81 years old. He is shorter in stature than I have imagined, as often happens with celebrities who appear to loom larger than life. He remains toned and taut. Age has grayed his hair, but it is still a full head of platinum. He is dressed in an immaculately tailored Navy blue pin stripe suit, so finely tufted that every pin strip matches up with military precision. The cuff on his pant breaks so beautifully that it could be an illustration out of Alan Fusser‘s “Clothes and The Man“. To achieve this effect, the cuff is not hemmed all the way to the bottom, a trick of the trade that only movie stars and crowned princes know. Mr. Williams is wearing a yellow and white stripped silk tie (Countess Mara, I would bet) and a sunny yellow handkerchief in his suit jacket’s breast pocket. Andy Williams is a window out of Paul Stuart. The only concession to his age is his polished black orthopedic trainers.

Mr. Williams is launching his autobiography “Moon River and Me” along with a new “Best Of…” album. . . This day alone he has appeared on “Good Morning America”, Live with Regis & Kelly” and been interviewed by a dozen other people including Barbara Walters, who asked him why in the world he works so hard at his age? (Ms. Walter is only 80.) Williams performs eight shows a week, 4 months a year, at his theater in Branson, does other gigs, appears at charity functions, and is a world-class collector of modern art. Williams replies that he likes what he does, and he’s only semi-retired, his autobiography is a way to set the record straight for posterity, (if there is to be posterity). His autobiography is form of analysis, a process therapists call “life review”.

But I digress, Williams speaks to us, an enraptured audience (above capacity crowd). He shares stories about his first big record “Would You Like To Swing On A Star”. (A more apt title for his autobiography, I think). Andy Williams and his brothers provided all the background vocals for the 78 (that’s what people listened to before ipods). The Williams’ were paid a whopping 25.00 for their efforts. The song was a huge hit for it’s lead vocalist, Bing Crosby, who Andy reports probably bought half the San Fernando Valley with his royalties, Mr. Williams share was a mere 6.25 dollars after it was divided up amongst his brothers.

Williams appeared in dozens of MGM films, often unaccredited, in chorus parts. His training with MGM led him to the offices of the studio’s Musical Director, Kay Thompson, who saw in Andy and his brothers something very special, something the hoi-poly at the at MGM did not. When Thompson left the studio in the 1950’s she created one of the best cabaret/nightclub acts in the country. So famous that her goddaughter, Lisa Minnelli, restaged most of it on Broadway this year (Tony Award Winner) The Kay Thompson act featured the Williams brother backing up Thompson, and performing solo while she had costume changes. The engagement was so successful that it ran for years! Thompson remains an enigmatic almost forgotten figure in show business. She was however simply beloved by everyone who knew her. (Her life and career deserves further review, and would make a great musical bio-pic). Case in point the Williams Brother lacked a formal education as they were performing throughout their childhoods. Thompson wanted to introduce them to the joy of great literature and composed a (never recorded) patter song, in rhyme, listing the names and dates of every key author that a person should read. It’s scathing brilliant! The boys committed it to memory. Thompson didn’t stop just there; she then composed a song of every great painter too. The songs deserve some crafty cabaret artist to revive them. Now with impact, this song instilled a life long love in art for the formative Andy Williams.

Williams may seem to have had a charmed life, but far from it, it has been riddled with crisis, trauma, and disillusionment. Williams was present at the Hotel Ambassador when his good friend Bobby Kennedy was assassinated. Williams fesses up to his culpability in the breakup of his marriage, and family due to simple being on the road all the time. He was a notorious absentee husband and father. Williams relives in graphic detail the stunning murder trial of his ex-wife when she shot Olympic Skier Spider Sabitch. His account is a fascinating and disturbing account on how the judicial system and media sometimes conspire. There are the career ups and downs. . His intimate take on working with celebrities from the likes of the Osmond’s, Elton John, the Rat Pack, Judy Garland, to Ella Fitzgerald. He also delves into his own childhood with a driven father, versus the economic realities of the Great Depression, and the instilled values of the Protestant work ethic, and typical Midwestern optimism. A father that on one hand was loving and supportive, and on the other hand reminded his boys “You aren’t good enough!”. Williams tells violent stories about working with mobsters and singing from the crowned heads of Europe. Guess what, the mobsters were nicer! But mostly it’s about the music, a life in song and the days when trained and talented singers sang, you know people with beautiful voices, not just beautiful faces. Today we have become an assemblage of studio-enhanced voices.

Perhaps “Moon River” is an apt title for his autobiography. Andy Williams after all personifies the Mancini classic… “Oh, dream maker, you heart breaker, wherever you're going, I'm going your way.”… “We're after the same rainbow's end, waiting 'round the bend, my huckleberry friend, Moon River and me.”

Not So Stormy Weather

In a prior post (May 1^st 2009) I introduced readers to the big band singer, Dolly Dawn, in a two piece post entitled, “It’s Sin To Tell A Lie”. Ms. Dawn, who was a dear friend, was a member of the New York Sheet Music Society www.nysms.org. She was devoted to the organization, and was their official “greeter” at the door. The New York Sheet Society meets once a month. Ms. Dawn who had precious little to look forward to in her daily life planed her week around each meeting. On rare occasion, I was invited to join her. This was to be considered an honor.

New York City is filled with clubs, associations, groups, organizations and societies. In New York, a part of our created identity is based on what organizations to which we belong. Belonging to something is apart of the cultural hierarchy. Sometimes these quirky little organizations become like surrogate family, this is true of the New York Sheet Music Society, which might be characterized as an idiosyncratic family, filled with aging dapper uncles, and quirky doyenne like aunts who still go to beauticians, and wear curlers to bed. It is a slice of the theater of life. The members are a crazy quilt of former music publishers, song pluggers, arrangers, old band singers, aspiring cabaret artists and maybe even a former fan dancer. (For my younger readers, look up “fan dancer” on Google). I do not know the actual demographics, but I think it’s a fair presumption to suggest that the mean age of the assemblage is set squarely between retirement and death. Did I mention I’m also a member? I joined shortly after my post on Dolly Dawn was published.

The Society meets in the Musicians Union Hall, Local 802, on West 48^th Street in Times Square. It is not a glamorous locale. On the walls are posters of Louis Armstrong, Dizzy Gillespie and BB King. They punctuate the room like exclamation points. The room might appear as bland as a glorified auditorium, ah, but if those walls could speak what a story they might tell.

Sight is not needed to know that the members of the Society are devoted to it. The meetings are filled with sad and sweet recollections of a time gone by…nearly gone by. The Society celebrates the Great American Songbook. If you love “standards”, then I can only urge you to visit its website, support the society’s endeavors, stop by, and perhaps join. Like family, there is always room for one more, after all, if they would embrace a malcontent like me that you are a shoe in.

Come Blow Your (Lena) Horne

Here is what you missed this week. Author, James Gavin, introduced his bestselling biography of Lena Horne, “Stormy Weather“. Interjecting the authors comments were rare film and TV clips of Ms. Horne. Singers Barbara Fasano, Eric Comstock and Pepper Swinson sang from the Horne cannon, which was followed by an engaging Q & A.

If you are not familiar with Mr. Gavin, he is a respected journalist, and his prior book “Intimate Nights” which is a history of Cabaret Society in New York, is considered a seminal text. Mr. Gavin is distinguished by his affinity with his subject matter, but not at the nostalgic sacrifice of giving his readers all the pertinent facts, thus creating a fully dimensionalized picture, good, bad and indifferent. “Stormy Weather” pays homage to the life and career of Lena Horne.

The arch of her career, which spans six robust and prolific decades, is filled with Horne’s accolades, the stunning film work, stage performances, the awards, the honors, the TV appearances, the cannon of recordings and the artistry of her concerts and nightclub performances. Whatever measurement is employed it is an enviable career.

Lena Horne might easily be described as a living legend. She is 92, and lives on the Upper East Side of New York. She has lived reclusively since 2000 when the onset of Altsheimers limited her public appearances. Horne remains a national treasure.

 

I will elect to forgo the salient details of Horne’s life and career. It is well known. If you are not familiar with Ms. Horne you can purchase Mr. Gavin’s wonderful book or investigate on the web, but here are some revealing details less commonly known.

Lena Mary Calhoun Horne was born on June 30, 1917 in Brooklyn, NY. She is an archetypical American, part African American, Native American and Caucasian. Sometimes with the temper of the times called, “high yellow”, and apart of what W.E.B. DuBois called “The Talented Tenth” a part of the emerging upper stratum of well-educated middle class Americans.

Despite the romance of an early childhood, her father, Edwin "Teddy" Horne, was a professional gambler and numbers kingpin, who left the family when she was three. Her mother, Edna Scottron, was the daughter of the inventor, Samuel R. Scottron, who among other distinguishing facts, invented curtain rods, tri-fold mirrors and leather trolley straps. Edna was an actress with an African-American theater troupe and traveled extensively through the southern circuit. Often impoverished ergo, Horne was mainly raised by her grandparents, Cora Calhoun and Edwin Horne. Ms. Horne described her childhood as “brutal”, often being left with relative’s, strangers and foster homes while her mother sought work in a segregated South. Abandonment remained a central issue that plagued her throughout her life.

The Black Ivory Tower

Indeed history has given Horne short shrift. She does not receive the credit due her when assessing the modern Civil Rights Movement. During the Civil Rights Movement Horne experienced a different kind of segregation from her peers, many younger activists saw her as an old time mainliner, part of the segregated establishment, because she was of mixed heritage she was not considered, “as black”, and Horne defying misogyny laws was married a white Jewish man, raising the specter of “passing the color line”. In truth, Horne was raised in a politically progressive family. Early in her career, Horne worked with Eleanor Roosevelt to pass anti-lynching laws. Horne fought for better screen roles for her race and expressed her consternation with being reduced to cameos in musicals. Horne was celebrated for her physical beauty and then for her talent. It was an inverted paradigm, in truth; her talent always trumped her beauty. Horne described her experience in Hollywood as being like in a black ivory tower. Hollywood was not aware of her gifts beyond her face and voice. Irritating the establishment who didn’t like to see the boat rocked, during World War II, when entertaining the troops for the USO, Horne refused to perform for the segregated audiences, or to groups in which German POWS were seated in front of African American servicemen. She was not awarded any medals of honor. An activist by nature she fought ferociously for her colleagues when entertaining on the road, or when performing in Las Vegas, for musicians who (unlike Horne) were not allowed to use the front door, and enter a hotel swimming pool. In a punitive measure to exercise their clout, she was blacklisted during the 1950’s for expressing her political views. Her 1963 album “Here’s Lena, Now” (never reissued) delves into protest and social songs. It’s a brilliant execution of numbers that rivals the work of Baez, Dylan and Peter, Paul & Mary. Horne herself an indisputable icon became a spokesperson for the iconic Chanel # 5 becoming the first woman of color to promote an international label. In the 1970’s, with frequent visits to Sesame Street”, Horne toped the charts with her version of Kermit the frog’s signature song “It’s Not Easy Being Green” raising it to high art, and revealing it’s political sub-text. Her cumulative work for racial equality is unparallel and I’ve only skimmed the surface.

Like many people, I was lucky to see Ms. Horne sing live. In May 1981, Lena Horne opened for what was to be for a mere four-week engagement at the newly named Nederlander Theatre in New York City. One extemporaneous element I vividly recall is a curious choice, that the theater was painted the same blue as Horne’s bishop sleeved gown, blue, all the walls, ceilings, chairs, pediments, finials and frames, blue, blue, blue and blue. The show while in previews was considered a disaster. The evening ran long, the songs were riddled with endless patter, the staging was distractive and a custom-made wig tore into Horne’s scalp. Audiences were left wondering if the singer who hit her stride several decades prior was even relevant. Like a con-compliant patient, Horne practically went AMA (Against Medical Advice) and had the vehicle restaged to suit her talents. The show opened up with the rousing Jim Croce song, “I Got A Name” and there was no going back. (Insert bubble that say “POW”, “BAMM” “SOCKO!“) The show was an instant success and was extended to a full year run, garnering Horne a special Tony Award, and two Grammy Awards for the cast recording of her show, “Lena Horne: The Lady and Her Music“. There was no doubt in anyone's mind that the evening solidified Hornes emancipation. The 333-performance Broadway run closed on Horne's 65 birthday, June 30, 1982. Later that same week, the entire show was performed again, video taped for television broadcast, and home video release. (Remember video tapes?) The national tour began a few days later. It toured 41 cities in the U.S and Canada through June 17, 1984. It played in London for a month in August and ended its run in Stockholm, Sweden, September 14, 1984.

Time permitting, revisit the legacy of Horne on

www.youtube.com, run, do not walk to your local bookseller to purchases Gavin’s “Stormy Weather”, get to netflix or your local video store to re-watch “Cabin In the Sky“, “Stormy Weather“, “Broadway Rhythm” or “Till The Clouds Roll By”.

It's Not My Bag...Yet

 

Living in New York City, I am not a frequent visitor to Target, but I totally “get them.” I love their commercials, which are among the best on the air, but the nearest Target is located way out in Brooklyn (which is a “schlep”--Yiddish for “a drag.”). Target is not adjacent to mass transit, and I am one of those “city kids,” I don’t even have a driver’s license.

Target, like every major retailer, brand and label, advertises heavily in Times Square, where PVC (vinyl) graphics easily rise three to five stories tall by a whole-city-block-wide. These vinyl billboards are bright, colorful and graphic, and add to the energy of the area, which draws tourists from around the country and around the world to one of the most trafficked and visited areas in the world.

But, and it’s a big but, most of these PVC graphics are up for a few weeks and wind up in a landfill for centuries. They are not biodegradable. This turns me and my fellow consumers off…way off. Some companies have cleverly recycled the vinyl billboards and cut them down into tarps to cover dumpsters, so that debris and dust can be contained…that’s clever. Some companies have them cut down into strips (like a giant -size paper shredder) and they are recycled into a kind of insulation for new housing…that’s smart too, except we all know that with the housing market such as it is that there are more billboards going up than new homes being built.

Well, where there is a will there is a way. I'm not sure whose idea it was, but famed women’s wear designer and personal champion Anna Sui and Target have partnered in an ingenious campaign to recycle Target’s 42nd Street billboard. When the billboard comes down, it will be rolled up and sent to Anna Sui, who will use the vinyl to create one-of-a-kind tote bags for Target. Okay, I don’t usually carry a tote bag around, and I’ve never had the opportunity to purchase an Anna Sui-designed anything--but Target, if I have to hitchhike all the way to Brooklyn in December in a blizzard, I’m getting one of those bags! If you live in Saint Paul or Paducah and can’t hitchhike to Brooklyn or any other Target location, don’t fret, the totes are available online for just $29.99 at Target.com/billboardbag. Pre-sales are strong, so don’t delay.

Okay, here is another incentive--it is not just that the billboard is one giant ad for Target and Anna Sui, but four famed artists (Laurie Rosenwald, Michael Anderson, Josh Goldstein and Charles Wilkin) contributed to the crazy collage of a billboard that celebrates the Statue of Liberty, the Empire State Building and the humble knish. If you’ve never had a knish, imagine eating a deep fried potato pillow…with mustard! But I digress. You arties out there will also get the opportunity to go home with a kind of museum-quality lithograph by a great artist.

To learn more about this great retailing partnership and all about the billboard bags go to

Target.com/billboardbag or just call me!

Courtesy of

www.retaildesigndiva.com where it appeared on October 05, 2009

JR Dunn (part four of four)

As you have noted I have dwelled on pearls and jewelry of the past week. What has spurned this interest?

Today quality pearls can be found at JC Penny or Bulgari. Note to readers: quality varies. Too often, you get what you pay for. Many customers no longer rely solely on bricks and mortar stores. You no longer need a relationship with a jeweler. Ebay currently has over 11,000 listings for pearls that run the gamut from .99 cents to 10,000.00. However, purchasing pearls online may remove the romantic equation. In Shaw’s “Candida” Marchbanks questions whether a machine (a new fangled typewriter) could write a love letter “I suppose a machine could be made to write love-letters. They're all the same, aren't they!” The same sentiment is true of jewelry. There is something awfully nice about the exchange of hands when purchasing jewelry. Jewelry is as intimate a purchase as lingerie.

Throughout the world, throughout the country there are any number of wonder jewelry stores, but finding a good jeweler is like finding a good matchmaker.

In the spirit forthrightness, I need to confide that I was approached to research and presuming my research bore out, help introduce one such jeweler to you, JR Dunn. Am I being paid? Absolutely not, am I receiving a Rolex Oyster faced watch with pearl cabochon, no definitely not. The only quid pro quo is that JR Dunn will send a donation to the Scholarship Foundation at LIM College. www.limcollege.edu I asked only that they be generous, and no expectation has been set. They are welcome to be as generous as they are inclined.

Here is what I have been able to ascertain. Jewelry at JR Dunn runs from 59.00 to over 100,000.00 dollars, thus meeting almost every reasonable price point. JR Dunn believes as per their mission statement, that jewelry can be used to help customers commemorate life's most joyous occasions.

The story of business in America is often the story of a family. This is true of JR Dunn.

James Robert Dunn began his career in 1967 as a sales representative for IBM. There, he had the good fortune to meet Ann Marie Pelliccia, who was working as the senior secretary. It was very “Mad Men”. The couple was married in 1969. That same year, with a savings of $10,000.00, they purchased a small unassuming house in Hanover, Massachusetts, and converted it into their first jewelry store, “The House of Gems” That is Yankee fortitude.

Founded in 1969 the first year was difficult one, no sooner had they opened but were robbed, every piece of jewelry was taken, including all their customers' repairs. Mrs. Morton plant could commiserate. Owners, Ann Marie and Jim R. Dunn went from door to door gingerly informing bereft clients, and reassuring them that their prized possessions would be replaced. The Dunn’s paid for the stolen jewelry out of their own pockets to preserve their reputation for integrity and trust. What a shame that they did not work for AIG, Bear Stearns or Bernie Madoff.

Despite the initial setback, business began to grow, and “The House of Gems” soon outgrew its tiny location. Jim and Ann Marie relocated the store to a mall in South Weymouth, changing the name to J. R. Dunn Jewelers to emphasize the importance of a family-owned and operated business. The business became a success. Given how many small business fail this speaks to their strategy, commitment and quality.

In 1977, the Dunn’s moved to South Florida with intentions of semi-retirement. Florida was being developed for an exodus of aging baby boomers eager to acclimate to climbs that are more temperate. Jim and Ann Marie opened a modest jewelry boutique, which served a select clientele by appointment only. It was only meant to be a part-time (side-line) business. Nevertheless, word of mouth spread and J. R. Dunn Jewelers outgrew its' location once again. Their next decision was a big one: the notion of retirement was abandoned and they decided to make an adventuresome purchase of a 6,000-square-foot freestanding building. For those of you who don’t understand square footage, most jewelry shops are less than 500 square feet. Filling a 6,000 square space with jewelry is daunting to say the least. A five bedroom home and most city lots runs the equivalent of 6,000 square feet.

Today J. R. Dunn Jewelers has grown to an 8000-square-foot showroom featuring the world's most renowned Swiss watches and designer jewelry. For customers looking for a piece that is distinctive (a one of a kind or small run) custom designs by Ann Marie's brother, the famed Robert Pelliccia are available. Robert is a three-time DeBeers Award Winning Designer (1993, 1995 and 2000), a Spectrum Award winner (1999, 2000 and 2001) and Modern Jewelers Buyers Choice Award winner. Mr. Pelliccia is the Meryl Steep of Jewelry design. Might I suggest you try a

www.google.com/image search to see some of his work.

What separates the men from the boys, a good jeweler does more than just sells, JR Dunn offers many bells and whistles for its customers. If you lost one of a pair of treasured earrings? Not a problem. Stop by with the surviving earring and they will design one to match. If you are artistically inclined and have a sketch of something you would like? Bring it in and they will make it for you.

Apple may be famous for it’s “Genius Bar, Best Buys” for it’s “Geek Squad” J. R. Dunn Jewelers’ may be a worthy competitor, their staff has more than 300 years’ of combined experience in the jewelry industry, as well as three certified gemologists including their son, Sean. Sean earned a Bachelor of Science in Business Management from the University of Florida and has a graduate gemologist degree from The Gemological Institute of America in California (GIA). I do not know if he is single, but having a friend in the jewelry business is an asset in life. Sean now continues the legacy of excellence his parents, Jim and Ann Marie, built. Together, they are eager to give clients "The Ultimate Jewelry Experience" and will continue to treat their clientele with the same standards of excellence established all those years ago in that tiny unassuming house in Massachusetts.

Do not rest solely on my word or assessment I kindly invite you to check them out for yourself. Might I suggest you check out their http://store.jrdunn.com/category_s/473.htm Mikimoto Pearls?

Web: www.jrdunn.com

Toll-free: 1-866-362-5787

Phone: 954-601-1257 / 954-601-1260

Email: service@jrdunn.com

Address: JR Dunn Jewelers, 4210 North Federal Highway, Lighthouse Point, FL 33064