More pictures from the evening of February 17 (yes, I took a lot of pictures during that session), heading west on the north side of Spring St. from Greene St. to Wooster St. Next time, I'll try not to take pictures during rush hour, as there was too much pedestrian traffic. Honestly, though, I'm not sure what the best time is to take pictures on Spring St. -- it's
always crowded.
Here's the eastern window of
Burberry, at 131 Spring St. All together, the outfit is fashionable enough in a uptight, upper-crust casual sort of way, and the long jacket would hide more egregious ass issues, but that high-waisted pleated pant with the belt and the skin-tight top looks specifically designed to highlight a poochy stomach. The knotted ropes holding up the placards are a nice nautical touch that meshes well with the store's preppy aesthetic.
Not a bad effort toward glitzy evening sparkle in
Burberry's western window. The long "ties" are a little too busy when mixed with that long necklace, though, and I'm uncertain about the ankle boots. On one hand, I think the boots are kind of cute with the dress ending above the knee . . . but on the other hand, the boots also look like a businessman's black socks in that awkward, vulnerable moment just after he takes off his trousers.
This sepia-soaked, theatrical display of a decrepit tenement room is in
Diesel's eastern window at 135 Spring St. I give them major props for the effort of building such an authentically squalid set, but I'm also reminded of the Derelicte fashion show in
Zoolander . . . and of the Nine Inch Nails video for
Closer. As for the apparel itself, well, there's not much here, really. That's a cool enough brown shoe on the chair, and the scarf hanging on the wall has some style. I'm not positive what item of apparel that scarf is paired with, though . . . could that be a long wifebeater with a hoodie? Or just a rumpled sack dress? This is why mannequins come in handy.
Another of the funky
Diesel windows with their tenement set. I remember in my 7th Grade art class, my teacher told me to leave out all the wires and outlets from the baseboards, unless I wanted the room I was drawing to look specifically sordid and busy. So, here: specifically sordid and busy, but rather lovely in an Ashcan-school sort of way. I believe I already owned that shirt in 1986, when I was aiming for a cool New Wave look with touches of Goth. I guess that can come back.
The westernmost
Diesel window, alongside the entrance. I do like their purposefully edgy and schlumpy aesthetic, but has anyone else noticed how surprisingly
uncomfortable Diesel clothes can be? It's like they're factory-imbued with scratchy starch.
A street vendor's tables displaying skull-emblazoned beanies and scarves with roses. The booth appeared abandoned, with no actual vendor in sight. He was probably off keeping warm somewhere . . . it was
frigid outside, and my hands were getting chapped holding the camera.
Ah,
Chanel. 139 Spring St., on the Spring St. side. This is taken from the easternmost window, although these mannequins are in the center of the store, as though they were discriminating patrons themselves. Having money is the only excuse to wear that color. What
is that color, anyway . . . coral? Clownfish? Clementine? I love the way the poster in the background appears to hover in the middle of the store, like an apparition of Ophelia floating by.
A
Chanel purse and sunglasses. I say that flourichon on the purse is too much. Cute little planner, though. Mary J. Blige could rock those sunglasses.
An impressive goddess gown on the front mannequin in the westernmost
Chanel window. The back mannequin is wearing the kind of power trousers that Chanel perfected.
Right outside the Chanel shop, this
New Yorker and
Vogue cover art street vendor has taken shelter in his car. I first saw
New Yorker covers for sale at a street vendor's booth up by Central Park, and I was going to buy a few, but then I realized that they were just color printouts in cheap frames, so I made my own at home.
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