Tag: Shopping

Everything Old is New Again

“There are moments, Jeeves, when one asks oneself, ‘Do trousers matter?'”
“The mood will pass, sir.”
― P.G. Wodehouse, The Code of the Woosters

This gentleman is a fabulous steampunk Cossack pirate, and I buy clothes from him.

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I do not buy too many new clothing items these days. Exceptions are things like work clothes; I am in the process of building a small arsenal of work dresses and investing in high quality tailoring with the aim of building a capsule work wardrobe. But other than that, I have not bought new clothes in a long time and have instead bought things almost entirely vintage or second hand. There are a few reasons for this.

First, I’ve mentioned before what an impact reading this book made on me. Even though it was now several years ago, it has had a lasting effect on my shopping habits. More stuff, cheaply made is not good for anyone. Not the planet, not the below-minimally-paid garment workers of the world, not me. Too much bad stuff is suffocating society and the clothing industry is a major culprit.

You might not think it to watch my social media feed, but my closet has actually gotten significantly smaller over recent years as I’ve winnowed out cheap clothes and bought fewer but better pieces. Learning to be more intentional about my spending habits has been one of the primary mental shifts I experienced transitioning out of university, into work, then into freelancing, and finally into my current role. Even though what I buy is now more expensive per capita, I’m getting significantly more wears out of each item, replace them less frequently, and buy better quality in the first instance. More money but less shopping overall, and a surprising amount of money saved as a result.

Second, I love vintage clothing. Not the head-to-toe look that only someone like the incomparable Dita Von Teese can pull off, but individual, well made, well cared for pieces that will never go out of style. It’s how I bought an excellent British tweed jacket, for instance, that I will probably own for the rest of my life.

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But shopping vintage or second hand also has a secondary benefit to overall quality: you are much, much less likely to see someone on the street wearing the same thing as you. In a society where fast, cheap fashion is everywhere and the same handful of retailers provide a huge majority of clothing to the general population, wearing something different can set you apart. It can also help you find amazingly fun items that really speak to your personality or sense of fun. The Cossack pirate sold me a vintage kimono that functioned as menswear in its original form, but now is my “opera coat” or going out jacket. Occasionally, on the advice of the Great and Good Caitlin, I flip it inside out to show off the hand painted panel. Why not?

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I did not buy this leopard print fur jacket, but that’s strictly due to reasons of poverty.

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I tried to be a good little Londoner and wear mostly black for a long time (and still occasionally do go monochrome for convenience and/or laziness), but eventually gave up. I love color and personality in my clothes too much and always need a punch of something on my person. Second hand or vintage shopping allows me to hunt for things like this that would cost me my firstborn child or a kidney to buy new. And because I no longer buy clothing on a whim; rather I spend time hunting for things that I really want, that really fit, and that I genuinely love. I spent a year trying to find a Sukajan jacket with a fun design (this one is actually reversible–two jackets for the price of one!) that actually fit me before finally forking out any money for one.

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The third reason to not buy new clothes ties to my second. Because my industry is so image conscious, the clothing that people wear telegraphs messages constantly. The best sales agents I have ever seen can take one look at a man and accurately estimate his income based on his watch or shoes. They can make a pretty decent guess about a woman’s industry and even educational background by her accessories. It’s scary how much people can tell at a glance of you.

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When I say I’ve been investing in a work wardrobe, I mean it literally. Some brands or items or even stylistic looks carry a certain cache that I in turn want to tap into when presenting to external companies or meeting with clients. I want to be in control of the messages my appearance puts out about me or whoever I happen to representing at the time. “Power bag” or “power heels” aren’t buzzwords, I have been treated very and noticeably differently based on which shoes I have chosen to wear to client or investor meetings. It may sound frivolous, but it’s anything but. Buying secondhand allows me to spend less on items of clothing that would otherwise be utterly beyond my price range, but are very real tools in my trade. Living in a city like London where fashion flows constantly, pre-owned doesn’t even necessarily mean used! Last winter I snagged a gorgeous Miu Miu coat in a beautiful wool (incredibly warm) with an embellished collar and spiked belt (again, why not!) that still had the tags of its original purchase on it.

Having bought clothing almost exclusively second hand for years now, I don’t really see myself going back to buying new except in a handful of instances. Not only are the perks of saving money and finding wholly unique items too good to give up, I genuinely enjoy the hunt for bargains or stellar finds. It makes getting dressed more fun and gives me a story to tell with nearly everything I put on. I’ll take it over cheap fast fashion any day.

Bloomin’ Lovely

“A woman’s perfume tells more about her than her handwriting. ”
― Christian Dior

For years now I’ve been on the hunt for the perfect perfume. I wore Coco Mademoiselle for close to a decade and then, quite suddenly, went off it. But I remain dedicated to the somewhat dated idea of signature scents rather than a massive smorgasbord of perfumes to choose from. I simply like smelling familiar to myself and others and find scents to be easy ways to play with identification (I might keep a scent forever, alas for Coco, but I’ll definitely keep it around a long time). Currently I wear a Hermes perfume, Jardin sur la Nil. I picked up over a year ago when I clearly had adventure on the brain and the idea of an olfactory trip up the Nile appealed, and while I’m very fond of it, I admit it’s not The One.

I’m a snob, and I don’t like smelling like wearing very common scents–maybe that’s why I eventually got tired of Coco, come to think of it–but finding unusual perfumes takes time. Luckily I found a shop in Spitalfields that makes the hunt easier. Welcome to Bloom!

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Bloom focuses on promoting lesser known noses and masters and stocks scents that you won’t be able to find elsewhere. Chatting with a shop worker, it seems that they’ve been the first to carry a number of brands and perfumes in the UK, a fact she seemed pretty darn proud of. As well she should be!

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Often I find that perfume counters at malls or department stores all smell the same, a mix of the popular and expensive name brands they carry. Bloom to me never smells the same way twice; and trust me, I make regular pilgrimage. The stock changes regularly enough to create a purely unique bouquet that’s a delight to hang out in.

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When I finally finish of Jardin sur la Nil, I’ve already picked out the runner up for my next perfume from Bloom. It will be months if not another year or two yet, but the shop assistants introduced me to L’Humaniste, a scent inspired by the French Renaissance writer Rabelais (so clearly I need to have it). I’m flirty with deeper, spicy, more cologne-y scents these days and it fits the bill nicely. It may not be the One either, but I’m having a lot of fun looking.

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What do you think about signature scents? A lovely concept? Too old school? Not for you? An article of faith? Tell me all you wear and why!

I scream, you scream, etc.

“Forget art. Put your trust in ice cream.”
― Charles Baxter, The Feast of Love

One of the great tourist-y pleasurable things you can enjoy in London is exploring the famed shopping area in the West End. Bond Street, Regent Street, and Oxford Street have a bunch of high street shops that are plenty interesting, plus the city of Westminster goes to great lengths to make it accessible, especially during the summer, but the ream gems are the remarkable department stores like Liberty and Selfridges. Not only are they noted for stocking all the luxury brands, but many of the great British department stores are great at forming partnerships with brands (some big, some new) for events and launches. This year the European ice cream company Magnum is celebrating 25 years, and apparently this is a Really Big Deal on this side of the Atlantic. I thought the idea of throwing a celebrity-studded bash over ice cream was a bit much myself…but my grinch-like heart softened eventually. Because, ice cream.

Last Sunday, Regent Street closed to traffic (something they’ve done every Sunday in July) and Magnum set up booths by the dozen to give away thousands of free ice cream bars.

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However, Jeff and I didn’t feel like standing in one of these lines. We decided to stand in a much snootier line instead!

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Selfridges had a super-fancy exhibit for Magnum in their famous Wonder Room, where participants could create their own ice cream bars with super-fancy dipping chocolate and super-fancy toppings. Alas these were not free, but we figured that VIP ice cream would be a fun weekend treat so we sprung for it anyway.
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The decor was, of course, delightful. Selfridges is famous for their displays, primarily in their windows; I love their emphasis on visual design and engagement. But on to the main event!

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Toppings were tossed together in cocktail shakers before being lovingly spread over the hand dipped bars. Jeff and I managed a combination of ice cream, dip, and drizzle that included all the chocolate variations, plus toppings that were just wacky enough to be interestinghazelnuts, brownie bits…and cornflowers!
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Too weird for your taste? Trust me, it was delicious.

Vintage Shopping in Cheshire Street

“In the fashion industry, everything goes retro except the prices.”
― Criss Jami

One of my finds during the other weekend’s adventurous rambles was Cheshire Street in Whitechapel. Like other areas that have drawn specific immigrant groups in the past, this part of town has become the home base for a lot of the Bengladeshi immigrants coming to London over the last few decades, and many of the street signs reflect this. Which is initially what caught my eye.

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Turning the corner to glance down I spotted a rack or two of  vintage wares on the pavement so I started down to have a look. And then I realized that shop after shop after shop, all the way down the street, was dedicated to vintage clothing, accessories, textiles, and lifestyle items. I spent at least an hour just going through them and doing some fantasy shopping for myself and friends.

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The shops specialize quite nicely, some deal with everyday clothing and some deal strictly in couture and designer wear which was fun to just rifle through and fantasize over. I was tempted by a cloche style hat from the 1930s but really couldn’t justify it – especially when it felt so warm and bright out. Oh right, and poverty. That too.

This rack is entirely filled with homemade, totally unique simple kitchen aprons that I know for a fact that some of The Girls would simply die over – Amy and Jess, behold your probable future Christmas/birthday present!

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The owners were all incredibly friendly. Where some of the designers at markets, understandably, don’t want you to photograph their creations, the vintage shop owners let me snap shots with abandon!

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Vintage is not everyone’s thing, and admittedly it’s only mine to a degree (as much as I commit myself to buying quality second hand, some decades’ silhouettes are simply not for me!), but it is a lot of fun to explore and look through. And occasionally you do find a steal which does make the search worth it. Anyone willing for a full on raid of this street on any given weekend, hit me up, I’ll gladly show you my new favorite haunts!

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Holiday Shopping in Seven Dials

“The stranger who finds himself in the Dials for the first time…at the entrance of Seven obscure passages, uncertain which to take, will see enough around him to keep his curiosity awake for no inconsiderable time…”
– Charles Dickens

Seven Dials is one of my favorite areas of the West End. Like almost every section of London it’s gone through disreputable, slum, upscale, and upheaval phases (Covent Garden was of course the infamous haunt of Georgian prostitutes, and Agatha Christie set a murder mystery novel by the same name in the area) but it’s emerged nicely. Pretty shops, many retaining their historical facades and character, mix with restaurants and theatres. The hidden gem of Neal’s Yard is here, along with one of my favorite places to eat.

Last week the area shut down to car traffic and banded most of the shops together in discounts to kick off seasonal shopping. The lights were strung and on at full, twinkling brightness, street vendors sold ware ranging from food to millinery, and a band (called The Dukes of York) serenaded the revelers. It was a great night to wander.

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The atmosphere.
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The food stalls (with predictably cheeky names).
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The Dials.

Jeeves Approved

“Oh, Jeeves,’ I said; ‘about that check suit.’
Yes, sir?’
Is it really a frost?’
A trifle too bizarre, sir, in my opinion.’
But lots of fellows have asked me who my tailor is.’
Doubtless in order to avoid him, sir.’
He’s supposed to be one of the best men in London.’
I am saying nothing against his moral character, sir.”
― P.G. Wodehouse

Are you ready to be introduced to one of the gems of London? Walk with me, minions, I have things to show you!

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Welcome to 282 Portobello Road, a vintage shop specializing in British heritage clothing, especially tweed and leather. Though on the same road as the famous market, it is open every business day, and I really believe that every classic clothing enthusiast should look in if they ever get the chance. The clothing sold there spans the 20th century, with a particularly emphasis on the country gentleman. Last Saturday Jeff and I hit up the market for some grocery shopping and, as always to see what treasure we could find (more on that another day, because we found some great stuff!). When I mentioned this shop, he immediately wanted to have a look. A proper tweed jacket has been on his To Buy list for a while – and let me tell you there is absolutely no other place to go!

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Vintage Barbours and Burberry trenches, beaver top hats, and furs take up whole walls in the place, and beautifully worn leather boots march all over the floors. The smell is amazing, woody and wooly at the same time, and you’re permitted if not actively encouraged to touch and handle the wares. Jeff found exactly what he was looking for, and at a fabulous price!

The owner, Claudia, is an absolute delight to talk to! She’s one of those people who is so unabashedly enthusiastic about what they do and love that you can’t help being infected by it. She chats with everyone who steps in as if they are old friends, knows your size just by looking at you, and encourages you to try on anything that catches your eye. The Saturday I took Jeff she was talking to patrons about how she had been invited to Paris Fashion week, so when I went to pick up his jacket I asked her how it had been. She immediately gave me a whole run down of the couture shows she went to, the fashionista watching she did, and the Bohemians she and her friend bonded with in Monmarte. She even whipped out her phone to show me the beautiful 1930’s gown she wore (part of her private collection and not for sale).

I adore this woman!
I adore this woman!

All of her tweeds are heritage, made entirely in Britain (many in Scotland) and dyed with natural dyes instead of chemicals. She can even tell you where many of the cloths came from originally since almost every single one of the old tweed factories is now long out of business. They even offer tailoring at no additional charge – Jeff needed the sleeves lengthened.

Never fear, ladies, we are very well provided for!
Never fear, ladies, we are very well provided for!
That leopard hat might be necessary to my happiness.
That leopard hat might be necessary to my happiness.

I know exactly where I’m going to get my own ladies’ tweed jacket (on my own To Buy list), and my next pair of boots. One of best aspects of quality vintage clothing is how well some of it holds up. I peered through riding boots that are decades old but look and feel more solid and better than half of what I could find new at a store for the same price. In addition to outerwear, which is clearly one of the main themes of the shop, Claudia stocks some incredible, fun period pieces as well.

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The knickerbockers, they slay me!
The knickerbockers, they slay me!

So, when you’re next in town and looking to add a bit of traditional British gentility to your wardrobe, I’ll take you to meet Claudia before we go to tea in our new tweeds.

Treasure: Silly Old Bear

“When you see someone putting on his Big Boots, you can be pretty sure that an Adventure is going to happen.”
― A.A. Milne, Winnie-the-Pooh

J. and I have been married for three years now and according to an increasing number of people, we’re supposed to start having kids.  Preferably we’re supposed to already have one and  be ready to pop out another.

This casual attitude towards our personal choices, from a few close friends and relations but mostly perfect strangers, gives me more angst and headaches than I can successfully convey, but that’s another post entirely.  Needless to say, it gets me riled up.  These talks, whether instigated by friends, family, or total strangers, leave me feeling very misunderstood, very talked-down-to, and very angry.  J.’s aware of this and luckily he and I are on the same page when it come to the timing of such things.

So you can imagine the heights reached by my left eyebrow when glancing through all the treasure to be found in Cecil Court, J. suddenly froze, pointed to a shop’s (Marchpane) displayed wares and declared, “We need that for Stormageddon’s room.”

Stormaggedon being the nickname we use when discussing our future child.*

“Did I miss a very critical conversation?” I demanded.
“Look,” he insisted excitedly.
I looked, and beheld some original, hand colored prints from the 1926 first edition of Winnie-the-Pooh.

This tale only makes sense if you understand that J. loves Winnie-the-Pooh.  It was his favorite character as a child, his favorite movies, you name it.  My six foot, broad shouldered, grown man, all-American husband loves Pooh.  And here were original prints from £15 a piece.

We bought three.

Stormageddon may be years off yet, but he is going to have a fabulous nursery when he shows up.  Courtesy of his father.

*Fellow Whovians know whyAnd how he’ll look at the world.

London Gems: Cecil Court

“Thank God!  Cecil Court remains Cecil Court…”
– Graham Greene

Literally just around the corner from the Leicester Square tube station is a short street connecting St. Martin’s Lane and Charing Cross Road that’s devoid of traffic and lined on either side with shops that haven’t had a facelift in over a hundred years.  This is Cecil Court and it’s a print lover’s paradise.

Banknotes, antique books, maps, prints from books and magazines, movie and theatre posters, and even a couple of specialty collectors’ shops for models or antiques.  You can find massive Early Modern folios or tiny penny post stamps and all well priced.

The shops themselves, while mostly Victorian in the front, have been around for several centuries.  One owner talked with us a bit about her space – apparently Mozart lived (and had his hair cut) in it as a boy while lodging with a barber who sold tickets for the young prodigy’s concerts out of his shop.  The Foyles brothers had their first book shop here before moving to their current and most recent location in the early 20th century.  T.S. Elliot lived in a flat above the shops in the Court at one point, and William Hogarth’s mother died in one of them as well.

J. originally caught sight of the Court while wandering around and knew that I’d love it, and so insisted we visit when I was in town.  Naturally enough we went back a couple of times looking for treasure,  especially antique maps because I love them and plan on having a wall in our someday house decorated with one from every place we have lived.  Maybe another one with every place we visit.  We didn’t find any that we loved in our price range, but we did come away with treasure, which I’ll tell you about tomorrow.

If you want a small slice of London intelligentsia, unique history, that’s crammed to bursting with interesting things, and a quiet place to rest from the bustle of Leicester Square, stop by Cecil Court.  There are plenty of places to eat around it, it’s incredibly easy to get to, and you may just come away with something priceless.

Cecil Court in a cloud burst. I had a minor heart attack thinking of all those magnificent paper wares in the wet, but clearly the shop keepers are savvy about their work because anything on display outside is wrapped in plastic and perfectly safe. Whew!

* Photo mine.

London Gems: Jermyn Street

“I saw someone peeing in Jermyn Street the other day.  I thought, is this the end of civilization as we know it?  Or is it simply someone peeing in Jermyn Street?”
– Alan Bennett

Halfway between Piccadilly Circus and Green Park tube stations runs a fascinating road.  Jermyn Street is traditionally known as for its mens’ shops, specializing in tailoring, outfitting, and grooming London gentlemen for a couple hundred years now, as well as Britain’s oldest cheese shop, and Beretta, gunmakers since the 16th century.  But I’m in a girly mood, kittens, so I’m going to tell you a couple of my girliest indulgence to be found along this London road.

Fortnum and Mason started as an upscale Enlightenment grocery store and went on supplying basic home goods and luxuries to the present day.  Queen Victoria ordered food from it, it supplied troops during the Napoleonic wars, and claims the honor of being the first place in Britain to stock canned beans.  Today its ground floor stocks gourmet teas, coffees, biscuits, liquors, candies, and other taste sensations, all of which make excellent presents (I bought some unusual jams for the girls) for decent prices.  The upper floors, though are the real treats, stocking everything from nice kitchenware and home goods, china and hampers, ladies cosmetics, children’s’ traditional toys, and a truly fantastic men’s shop – which may have given J. some fearful ideas for future birthdays and anniversaries.  The Piccadilly store also has a lovely tea shop that is a great place to go for a treat, as well as four other restaurants to feed you at any time of day.

Floris is a perfumery that has been at this address since the 18th century.  Mary Shelley, Beau Brummell,Winston Churchill, and James Bond (the fictional character, he wore No 89) have all been customers and the shop preserves a lot of old fashioned shopping customs.  For example, it used to be considered vulgar to hand money to customers so to this day if you get change, a shop attendant will pass it to you on a velvet pad.  This place is, understandably, more expensive but worth it if you want a lovely present, or just want to treat yourself.  Many of their concoctions are centuries old, I bought my little sister her birthday present here, a fragrance originally crafted for Queen Victoria on the occasion of her marriage, and was re-released this year in honor of Elizabeth II’s jubilee.  There’s also a men’s fragrance originally developed for a Russian count that’s still sold today!  If you’re really up to dropping some cash, you can have a custom scent created for you – which, I’m not going to lie, I’d love to do some day.

So, if you’re in the mood for a touch of high end shopping, check out Jermyn Street, kittens.

Monday, Ho!

“Ahh, what a day! Up at 6:00, a 10-mile run in the sleet, and NOW a big bowl of plain oatmeal! How I love the crazy hedonism of weekends!”
– Bill Watterson, Calvin and Hobbes

I indulged this past weekend, minions.  I may have overindulged, in fact!

Let’s burn plastic  and worry about doing penance on Monday.

I’ve had a self-imposed shopping ban in place for months now, saving up for a major shopping trip, and I finally took it.  Woof.  There was carnage, kittens.  And then I went to a movie and dinner with my godfamily to round off my weekend of hedonism, because between weddings and assorted craziness we haven’t been able to play as much lately and that needed to be rectified.

Now the Small Dog clan is going on austerity measures until the holidays – Germany would adore us.

J.’s back in town tonight, permanently, no more cross continental marriage!  And immediately I drag him to an out of state wedding this weekend, we have another godfamily dinner at the start of next week, I head out to the Flyboy’s Wedding Part Deux in Louisiana the Saturday after, and the next day is our three year anniversary.  Life events are like buses, none come for huge stretches and then they all come all at once!