These pictures were taken on Saturday, February 7th, on a warm, sunny, busy afternoon, on the west side of West Broadway, between Spring St. and Broome St.
For those of you out there who aren't intimately familiar with the intricacies of SoHo, West Broadway is a two-way, north-south street that starts at West Houston St. (it's Laguardia Pl. from Washington Square South down to West Houston St.), and continues south until it hits the hole that used to be the World Trade Center. West Broadway should not be confused with Broadway, which is four blocks east, and which swerves its way down almost the whole length of Manhattan island. Regular Broadway is a wildly popular shopping area in SoHo, but it's often painfully crowded, and the street itself is a major thoroughfare. West Broadway has a tonier caché, with more of a quaint walking-district feel.
I'm feeling more than a little bitchy tonight -- an incipient headache -- so heads up.
This is the northern window of
Links of London (402 W. Broadway). That giant fuchsia neon diamond is certainly attention-grabbing, but it rather dwarfs the jewelry on display. I think the neon is oddly unsubtle for such unfussy, understated ornaments.
The central window of
Links of London. The necklaces are fine, if chilly, but what's up with that pink dog collar thing? And don't the obsidian, oblong display things look like they're poorly made out of origami paper? Unimpressive.
The southern window of
Links of London. Again, that giant neon diamond draws you in, but seems overtly gaudy for the elegant simplicity of the central necklace.
At 400 West Broadway is
Robert Lee Morris, with a display in their northern window of inexplicably cheesy paper valentines dangling above exotic beadwork necklaces and bracelets. Dissonant, and reductive. And wow, is that manniquin-statue awkwardly-shaped!
At least the display in the southern window at
Robert Lee Morris has some color in the jewelry that connects to the cut-out hearts. But still those hanging strands of valentines suggest a paper-goods store . . . not fine, expensive jewelry.
A street vendor on West Broadway selling photographs.
SALE 1/2 PRICE! Cheap!
The northern side of the storefront of
7 for all Mankind, at 394 West Broadway. Cute basics, with irritating frills. I know that mustard color is supposed to be hot right now, but I'm already sick of it.
Look, I'm wearing a fuchsia blouse! With a sickly knitted sweater! Aren't I
adorable? And feminine?
La de da, la de da. Plus I
love to drape vibrant scarves on my bag! The southern window at
7 for all Mankind, too cutesy for its own good.
An upscale
LensCrafters at 390 West Broadway, billing itself as a LensCrafters
Optique. With the giant head of Patrick Dempsey selling Versace frames.
These are some cool-girl mannequins in the northern window of
Miss Sixty (386 West Broadway). Very New York-styled, with a soupçon of Parisienne.
That mannequin at the second of
Miss Sixty's four windows has attitude! And bitchin' shoes. She looks like she's waiting to tear her boyfriend to shreds after he took
hours price-checking baseball mitts in a sporting-goods store. She's got a knife in that hot little purse.
She'll cut you.
These cool-girl mannequins in the third window at
Miss Sixty look like they've tipped over into
mean-girl mannequins. Whatever you did to piss off the blond, apologize
now. And the lady in the red jacket doesn't care if you live or die, although maybe your dying would amuse her, briefly. She's pulling off those yellow shoes, though, damn.
This mannequin in her paisley smock in the southernmost window of
Miss Sixty has got somewhere to be, so you best get out of her way. Her shoes and dress play well together, but I'm not feeling that bag or that hat. Does that hat have a
visor?
This is the first of three massive posters on the construction façade of what will become
té casan at 382 West Broadway. I kind of dig the streetwise aesthetic of this poster, but it also looks like an ad for a horror movie in which the victims are crunchy neo-hippies.
The giant central poster for
té casan, over where the doors will eventually be. I guess wanna-be grunge musicians and their groupies were an underserved market. That dude needs to have that hat smacked off his girly head.
The southern poster of
té casan has a more successful streetwise vibe. I instantly appreciate a girl who can wear a hat like that, and the guy looks comfortable without appearing like a poseur.
Wow, the northern window at German skiware sellers
Bogner (380 West Broadway) just strikes me as depressing. The chick in the dead-muskrat hat looks so despondent, like she's fallen into a pit of existential angst. Cheer up, girl -- you're on a fabulous ski trip! But of course we know who's to blame for her misery. Her boyfriend there, with his cell-phone pocket on his jeans' calf, turned-away face, and dark sunglasses, has got
douchebag written all over him.
The southern window of
Bogner. Ugh, these two seem so insufferable, and perhaps oddly kinky in some unsanitary way.
At the corner of West Broadway and Broome St. (372 West Broadway) is the massive, multistory temple to
Tommy Hilfiger. I'm surprised this store is still here, which means someone must still be wearing these clothes. These are the windows on the northern side, showcasing two preppy a-hole mannequins. Wow, that green sweater even makes the
mannequin look paunchy.
Tommy Hilfiger mildly improves on the southern side of their West Broadway windows. The trench is fine and basic, if a little too short, and I have friends who I can see wearing a rich purple sweater like the one on the right (although not with a green shirt,
please . . . or white jeans, which should always be reserved for street hustlers). The painted skirt in the middle is surprising fresh and fun.
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