THE ONE WITH THE HEFTY PRICE TAG-EEE-AG-EEE-AG?
The morning breeze was coming South up Madison Avenue. Hoping to keep cool, I started out in that direction with Rochester, instead of heading into Central Park where there was hardly any breeze at all.
Now, I'm not really a fashionista. How could I be? I take care of dogs for a living and hardly have any opportunity to wear much other than the dog-walker's uniform: shorts and t's in summer, jeans and t's in spring, jeans and sweaters (and parkas and raincoats and boots) in
winter. But I am a woman and I do love clothes, shoes, hats, handbags, dresses, suits, you name it, I dream of owning it.
It's fun to window shop on Mad Ave and fantasize about walking into Prada or Oscar di la Renta. And that's just what I was doing this morning, fantasizing and doing a little bit of gawking too. This Fall's offerings are to die for. Speaking of dying, I did wonder as I passed Donna Karan's if she was perhaps in mourning--all that black and not much variety in texture that I could see from the street--very depressing and Fall is depressing enough on its own. My "show-stopper" is at Akris. There's a 3/4 Loden style coat hanging just inside the front door and I'm lusting after it. A salesman was just opening the shop and I had the nerve to ask "how much is that coat please?" Casually he replied "$3 or so--$3,900." THIRTY-NINE-HUNDRED DOLLARS. I said (to my embarassment) "ah, well, that's a bit more than I'll ever be able to pay for a coat." To which he seemed to feel it necessary to explain the price "its double-cashmere." No, I did not ask "so if it were single-cashmere would it be half the price?" Didn't ask because even at half the price, I couldn't afford it.
The morning breeze was coming South up Madison Avenue. Hoping to keep cool, I started out in that direction with Rochester, instead of heading into Central Park where there was hardly any breeze at all.
Now, I'm not really a fashionista. How could I be? I take care of dogs for a living and hardly have any opportunity to wear much other than the dog-walker's uniform: shorts and t's in summer, jeans and t's in spring, jeans and sweaters (and parkas and raincoats and boots) in
winter. But I am a woman and I do love clothes, shoes, hats, handbags, dresses, suits, you name it, I dream of owning it.It's fun to window shop on Mad Ave and fantasize about walking into Prada or Oscar di la Renta. And that's just what I was doing this morning, fantasizing and doing a little bit of gawking too. This Fall's offerings are to die for. Speaking of dying, I did wonder as I passed Donna Karan's if she was perhaps in mourning--all that black and not much variety in texture that I could see from the street--very depressing and Fall is depressing enough on its own. My "show-stopper" is at Akris. There's a 3/4 Loden style coat hanging just inside the front door and I'm lusting after it. A salesman was just opening the shop and I had the nerve to ask "how much is that coat please?" Casually he replied "$3 or so--$3,900." THIRTY-NINE-HUNDRED DOLLARS. I said (to my embarassment) "ah, well, that's a bit more than I'll ever be able to pay for a coat." To which he seemed to feel it necessary to explain the price "its double-cashmere." No, I did not ask "so if it were single-cashmere would it be half the price?" Didn't ask because even at half the price, I couldn't afford it.
Maybe I should have asked if he would take my clunker coat for a trade-in? Is the gov't running a Coats For Clunkers campaign?
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