Showing posts with label Travel. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Travel. Show all posts

Thursday, May 31, 2012

It's a Free(wo)man's World

After Mr. C and I left the East Village's Orchard Street last December, we wandered back over to Soho via Rivington.  The sun was going down and the city was beginning to flaunt its dusky beauty. 

A dead-end alley caught my eye, for at its end was *something,* hinted at by twinkling fairy lights and a welcoming window.  So we took a stroll, past the grafitti, toward the warmth, and came upon Freeman's restaurant, an example of what I might call nouveau taxidermy decor; or, more elegantly, new American Rustic.

It's a small joint, and was full to the brim of diners and drinkers, so we made our way back down the alley, and into the associated gents boutique/barbershop at the end, named Freemans Sporting Club (w/o apostrophe), where plaid-shirted lads were coaxing lush Brooklyn-West beards into temporary submission.



From Freemans website: a hirsuite man sans suit


Because men's duds sometimes look better on a laughing woman


OK: I exaggerate.  But all this came rushing back today when, in a glorious, self-mandated moment of leisure, I was reading the Times Styles section and saw this series of graphic images:



Yes, upon first glance I did think they were prototypes for a new Batman mask. 

And that would be just fine with me, as I confess that beards do not thrill (I'd go all Dora Carrington on any Lytton Strachey who came my way [she snipped off his beard while he was sleeping, so the film says]).

But it was utterly fitting that the Batman beards were in the same issue as a story on Amanda Brooks, who is leaving Barneys for her husband's family's English farm, where she's planning to go all Pioneer Woman among the hedgerows and arrange cheese on plates (her examples [minus the hedgerow]). 

When I saw the photo far above, I knew exactly where Brooks was standing with her smiling pooch, because I'd been there last December, albeit in the dusk and chill. 



That's the alley, with Freeman's restaurant in the back, fairy lights, and, apparently, Brooks's soon-to-be-let apartment above.

Living where she does, with the many, many surrounding shops specializing in men's work wear (vintage and reproduction), with hirsute temptations at the very end of her alley, and in thrall to the romantic descriptions of life on an Oklahoma farm via The Pioneer Woman, it's no surprise that Brooks decided to give up rustic urbanity for the genuine English countryside. 

In homage to her past digs, here's hoping she names her new home Freewoman's Farm.

Saturday, March 17, 2012

Going Green in Chicago for Saint Patrick's Day

On Friday we landed in Chicago, ready to test the winds and sample some new cuisine.


Having read in the news that St. Patrick's Day was observed on Friday, I wore my Christiane Celle Calypso Julia dress in an iridescent almost-jade silk. 


It's green enough to count, but not green enough to look like it's on purpose.  (I also avoid matching my clothes to the "holiday," so it's orange cashmere at Christmas and chartreuse for Valentine's.)




My colour.  I remove the elastic from the sleeves;
puffs are perfect for Anne of Green Gables but are too little-girl for me.

But I was a little concerned: I had planned to pop into the Calypso boutique that evening, and realized that I would feel foolish wearing the house dressing, so to speak. But that's my "green" dress, so c'est la vie, I thought. At least it wasn't balsamic vinagrette.
I'd done my part for St. Patrick.  Even if the rest of the city didn't seem to be following suit, curiously enough.  Where was all the Irish spirit?  And the green beer?  I settled for delicious green, organic stir-fry at a terrific Thai joint.

So I was confused when I awoke the next morning to discover green t-shirts, furry green hats, green antennae, and even green painted-on shirts(!) parading about Michigan Ave.  Of course the "real" SPD was on Saturday, and Chicago was luxuriating in it.

In my coral dress I walked with my family up to the Chicago River, where we watched the plumbers dye it green. 

The first of three green stripes.  Source

The process was fun to see: a boat emitted a steady burst of fluorescent green/yellow color into the water and two chaps in a speedboat followed at high speed, zig-zagging through the dye to stir it up.  The process reminded me of marbleizing a cake.


Source

And yes, a feisty but polite leprechaun did pinch me on the bridge for wearing my coral dress. 

Friday, July 22, 2011