Everything is political

Back in New York City in mid March. Bernie Sanders just lost a whole bunch of primaries. The id of too many people is being let out by the superego of Donald Trump.  I walk the streets of Lower Manhattan. The weather feels normal for this time of the year.  Although, who knows what normal or hot or cold weather is anymore. We didn't really have a winter. Rich people, spoiled people everywhere.   Shops selling sweet things like cupcakes and candy seem to have popped up all over the place since my last visit. Along with plenty of coffee and animal care. People need soothing, and energy. So they eat a lot of candy, get a pet, and drink lots of coffee. The thrift stores and consignment shops are still providing me with a much needed feeling of escape: there at least I can focus on the colors, the patterns, the feel of the fabric, the cut, and maybe try some stuff on, just for the fun of it. No obligation (I went into Barney's out of curiosity: that was a mistake. "Hello how are you doing today? Fine thank you. Anything I can help you with? No thanks, not for the moment." There was nothing exciting in there. What happened to the old Barney's? Wasn't it edgier?) So back out into the street I go. I do find a cheap Thai place where I can sit for a moment, eat some healthy spicy food, and just chill. Back out I go, and head to Beacon's Closet, where I spend a good amount of time looking for summer tops. I end up with a nicely cut black tee-shirt. To add to the tee-shirt with a map of New York state inside of which there is a bear (?). I found that one at a thrift shop on Columbus Avenue the day before. The Housing Works also on Columbus Ave was filled with gorgeous stuff that felt like it had been cleaned out of old people's apartments. Young people want new stuff I guess. Out with the old, in with the new they say. So after Beacon's Closet, I pop into the Film Forum (thank goodness that's still around) to see an Iranian film. The story is pretty old hat: a maid watches a husband cheat on his wife (spoiler alert, sorry). But those women had such beautiful faces, and their headscarves only made their faces look even more beautiful. The innocence of that young, soon to be married housekeeper, who still clings to the ideal of love, the wife who is miserable because she thinks that her husband is cheating on her, these straightforward emotions made me long to be with people who are not (yet?) cynical, jaded and spoiled. Maybe I should go to Iran?

Skirt from the Goodwill in South Burlington, Vt, suede coat from the Pink Alligator in Hanover, NH

Sherry Levine installation, Chelsea Gallery, Manhattan. The refrigerators are manufactured new in Italy to look retro.

Goodwill, South Burlington Vermont (top and bottom)

Housing Works, Columbus Avenue, NYC

everything is political

Coats, Museums, Color

Several trips to New York City in December and January and I look obsessively at coats. This one spotted at MOMA was a real eye catcher. 

And this one was spotted at the Whitney. I love the little shoulder bag. 

For a Whitney performance I wore a jacket from Revolution and a skirt from Des Habits et Vous  (Lyon, France) along with red boots I found in Montreal and one of my Côté Lac scarves from a growing collection (made in Europe).

This skirt I picked up in Burlington at a consignment shop on Main Street. It's Christmas Day so the colors are a bit over the top. I tend to avoid color in my wardrobe. A dab here or there, but certainly not an entire piece of clothing. In the movie "Paddington" which was playing on the bus from NY back to Hanover, NH, I noticed that they had dressed the mother played by Sally Hawkins in Reds and yellows, two colors I really love together.

What a great outfit! 

wearing only used clothes

I wish I could do this for a year:

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/women/life/ive-worn-charity-clothes-every-day-for-a-year-to-raise-money-for/

I figure that the purchase of a used item of clothing is a form of recycling. But this is going an extra big step.

Fall wrap up

 Montreal, Mile End

Spent another Thanksgiving on the Plateau in Montreal. The circuit Saint-Laurent >> Bernard >>  Avenue du Parc in Mile End will yield many a vintage/"antique"/consignment shops finds....

                         

A trip to the fine arts museum near Mc Gill yielded some fun surprises as well...
(speaking of recycling)

your old suitcase...
...is an artifact

Revolution, White River Junction, Vermont

I still favor men's jackets (although I passed this one up)

I don't have a photo from the consignment shop on Lower Main Street in Burlington, Vermont, but it has moved into some nice new digs and is well worth the visit.

And now for a nice little story that centers around an object. I ended up in a TJ Maxx in Claremont, New Hampshire  (shame on me, I know) where I bumped into my neighbor Shirley who was looking for a new purse because her old one was really getting old (she'd had it for twenty years). Shirley is a no frills kind of person, who hardly ever treats herself or indulges. She has a tough life, works hard, never complains.  I asked her whether she might be interested in an old leather bag of mine that I don't use anymore, and she said maybe.

So the next day, I walked the bag over to her house, and we chatted for an hour, she told me more bad news about her family, but she remained cheerful. I gave her the bag and asked if I could take a picture. She liked the bag even though it was bigger than what she was looking for. I'm just glad that I got to know my neighbor better. The bag enabled the conversation.



And finally, the daughter with the vintage cool running through her veins, Williamsburg, Brooklyn.




New York City. After the Paris attacks, and more gun violence in the USA, and the refugee crisis, and the planet getting dirtier and dirtier. I came here for a week to be with my family, to see some movies with friends, to take some young Europeans out to dinner, to see some live music, to see a play, to walk, and walk, and walk, to read a lot, to relax in a state of insouciance. Luckily, it worked. Thank you New York. Thank you friends, family, neighbors.

After Paris

So many words on social media, an outpouring of emotion.

I will be brief.

Looking at the last Paris posting from this past summer, I can't help but feel fortunate that, during the two weeks that I was there, the only thing I could complain about was the heat.

I know the bombed places well, these are the bobo neighborhoods where we all love to hang out. I was so proud of myself when I biked on a velib' from the 19th arrondissement down to the 10th then along the boulevard Richard Lenoir, which has the nice separate bike lane, to the 11th, to the Bastille neighborhood where I browsed at a very good comics bookstore on rue de Charonne.

Hot damn. I never felt so free and happy in my life as when I was riding that city bike alongside a bald hipster who was on his bike, and we waited for the green light, and I felt so urban and hip and cool. He disappeared in his direction, I went on in mine. Briefly,  two strangers sharing the same feeling of freedom.

I don't live in a city, but when I am in one,  I make sure to appreciate what the city has to offer. The ability to move around in so many different ways, bike, walk, metro, bus, scooter, roller blades, wheelchair, and to see so many different things, and hear so many conversations, languages, sounds, voices, music, and to eat and smell and drink and to watch people perform, and to luxuriate in clothes, shoes, jewelry, hats, gloves, leather, silk, cotton, wool, old, new.

But, most importantly, to be with other humans, and to share the activity of living.

Empty Nesting IV