These are the last few images from my most recent trip to Boston (at least the last few that I’m going to post here.) This one’s for the Archbishop of New York, Timothy Dolan. You just know he wants a piece of the altar boy who got away. (And this former altar boy isn’t going to hide behind pixels or vocoders.)
This past weekend I had to attend to some business in Boston, but on the way I made a quick detour to the Wrentham Outlets. Usually I stop there on the way to or from Cape Cod, but since there are currently no Cape trips planned, I made the excursion for the sales that are going on right now. (Here’s a secret from the Best Dressed Man of the Capital Region – I buy most of my Winter clothes at the end of the season and keep them around for the next few years – the coats I get are usually classic enough to last throughout the years – the same holds true for shoes.)
My first stop was the Saks 5th Avenue outlet, where I purchased my very first piece of Alexander McQueen clothing. It was a simple T-shirt with a bit of a cape zipped onto the back. It is heaven, and completely contradictory for the “classics that last” pronouncement made a few short sentences ago. But contradiction is a sign of true genius, or so someone wise once remarked. I’ll be honest, it was more for the sake of a McQueen garment than for any unadulterated love of the shirt itself (my day-to-day existence no longer calls for a cape). Still, I love it – and it got a chuckle out of the normally unresponsive Andy, so there must be something right about it.
I scoured the Burberry store for anything – specifically the bag that I’ve been hoping would strike me at some ridiculously-low price – to no avail. Not only were the bags lame, they were nowhere near decently priced. There was a pair of underwear that I ended up getting, but Burberry was otherwise a bust.
Brooks Brothers tempted me with a pair of pink chinos, but I’m feeling more purple and lavender for Spring, so I passed on those. A few staples (khakis and gray dress pants) were found at Calvin Klein and Banana Republic respectively, but that was it for the outlets. My AmEx escaped relatively unscathed… though it would prove no match for a Boston filled with extreme sales, additional-coupon wielding sales associates, and a dreary weather pattern to bring out the binge shopper in the winter-weary among us.
That first night I arrived with a just an hour or two of store hours left, but everyone knows the kind of damage I am capable of producing in a few short hours. Like certain nights of drinking, I do it hard, I do it fast, and I do it grand. Possibly the most dangerous place to be when you’re in that fastlane mindset is Copley Place, but that’s just where I found myself on the chilly night – and the call of Barney’s cologne was just too sweet not to heed.
Their Frederick Malle line of fragrances is delicious, if a bit beyond my price range at $210 a bottle. However, here’s another little secret – you can request a travel size of three small bottles for about $90. It’s a great way to try out the different scents to see which one you really love. That’s the best part for me, as the store has an exquisite aroma, but it’s difficult to pinpoint exactly which one is dominant. I tried doing just that a few months ago when I was searching for a holiday scent, but I missed. This time I came a little closer, but it’s still not perfect. I think the next chance will prove the right one – and that’s going to be in Spring. For now, I’m going for a citrusy scent to chase away the rest of this winter, and orange blossoms are the best way to do that.
After browsing the depressingly priced bags at the Copley Burberry store (I cannot justify $795 for a bag right now) I knew I had to get to a more reasonable place – and one that was still open at 8:45 PM. Lord & Taylor has been that port in the storm in the past, and once again they came to the rescue.
Forget the fact that they were open until 9:30, it was the sales that made their winning deal. A few months ago, I fell in love with a Jack Spade bag. Normally, I am not the biggest fan of Mr. Spade’s minimalist accessories. They are far too simple and, for my taste at least, more than a little drab. Utilitarian, sparse, and unimaginative – I have no use for such things. Men’s clothing is drab and dull enough – I’m not going to waste valuable accessory moments with navy and olive green canvass.
However, there was a plaid messenger bag that had just the right amount of pop and pizzazz, while featuring the signature Jack Spade style and sleek design. The only problem was its price tag ~ a mere $395. Now hold on – when one is accustomed to seeing $1400 price points on Prada and $795 on Burberry – not to mention the $2100 quilted leather Bottega Veneta briefcase I’ve been eyeing for a year now, a miniscule $395 for a bag seems a steal, right? Wrong. I know that’s insane for a bag, particularly given our current financial situation (read: dire). And that’s why I passed on it those few months ago.
So how does the above image, taken by yours truly in the comfort of his Boston condo, make its way onto this site? With the help of a killer clearance deal, and a kindly associate who added an additonal 25 percent off the sale price with a coupon from his back pocket. When all was said and done the bag came down to $110. (That’s a savings of $285 for all the math folks.) I was done for the evening (though the next day I would return for a coat to match said bag, because that’s how I live. In my defense, that particular coat came down to $75 from $300, so at least I live somewhat smartly.)
At that point I was truly done, surrendering to the cold, damp night and pouring a cup of green tea in the warmth of the condo. The next day was a big one, and it was looking like a rainy one as well. Halfway through the night, the steady clicking of raindrops on the window AC began its relentless patter – alternately soothing and infuriating – and I awoke to a world of driving rain…
It may sound sacrilegious coming from me, but the most important thing a person can wear is not an item of clothing, or even a pair of shoes – it’s your fragrance. Now that Spring is here (and Givenchy’s ‘Play’ has run its transitory course bridging the Winter/Spring seasons), I’m in need of a new scent.
So far it’s come down to these contenders:
1) Burberry Sport (until this one, I’ve never liked any of the Burberry scents, but like all “sport” versions, it’s not the least bit flowery)
2) Grey Vetiver by Tom Ford (the scent of vetiver veers dangerously close to an old-man’s fragrance, but every time I sample this I love the way it wears on me – still, it feels more like a Winter cologne)
3) Gucci by Gucci (unimaginative name notwithstanding, this is another one that is less flowery than their standard floral fare)
I also need to plan the wedding weekend scent, and I’m leaning heavily toward a very special bottle of Creed’s Green Irish Tweed that Andy purchased for my birthday last year (fittingly while we were in Boston).
It has been my unfortunate personal experience that fashion – both good and bad – is invariably contagious. When I find out about a sale or an outlet that I didn’t know existed, I get very, very excited. (Frenzied is not an exaggeration.) The unfortunate part comes when I start entering the monthly AmEx charges into my admittedly-nerdy spreadsheet of credit card charges (if I didn’t do it this way I’d be in debt; to date, I have yet to miss a full payment, so cry dork all you want).
There are moments, however, when the monthly budget must be thrown out the window, such as when a Burberry outlet closes its doors and starts offering insane sales on top of outlet prices. A few things in this life are absolute, and a classic Burberry raincoat is one of them. It will never go out of style, it will last a lifetime, and it’s not just for the rain. In this case, it was lined (with a removable wool lining in the traditional Burberry plaid), it was the perfect size (not too long, not too short), and it was (just barely) under $200. The stars rarely align so perfectly.
I had to beg, plead and cajole both Andy and my boss to make the trip to Manchester, VT happen – for the former, I had to promise to fill the gas tank and buy dinner; for the latter, well, she just rolled her eyes. Actually, this was the exchange:
Me (in a dramatic, serious tone): Marline, there is a huge emergency and I need to leave at 3 o’clock today.
Boss: What, is there a sale at Bergdorf’s?
Me (in an earnest, surprised tone): No, at Burberry.
If blame must be placed, it cannot fall solely on my shoulders. I put the brunt of it on Kristi Gustafson and her own inspiring trip to Burberry, so tantalizingly posted on her ‘On the Edge’ blog. She made out like a bandit, and that sort of fashion/financial savvy is pure inspiration. (By the way, Kristi, I think Andy wants to talk to you…)
