Greene St. (West Side, between Prince St. and Spring St., Part 2)

We now continue on our further adventures down Greene St., heading south from Prince St. to Spring St. on the evening of February 17.

Located at 109 Greene St. is the jewelry shop Tous. Say "hi" to Kylie Minogue in the background! Apparently, Kylie designed some of the items.

A closeup of the jewelry featured in the Tous window display case. Much of it has an elegant, delicate filigree, and I'm enamored of the long necklace with the irregular translucent gemstones in subtle shades.

I feel apologetic about this photo of the Taschen (107 Greene St.) storefront window. The picture doesn't capture the intriguing playfulness of the bookstore's interior, with its artfully warped shelves, warm, inviting lighting, and poppy wall art. The window display is appropriately messily sexy for The Book of Olga, a limited-edition book that was commissioned from photographer Bettina Rheims by a Russian oligarch to showcase his hot wife, Olga Rodionova. On the right, I again apologize for blurring the Pierre et Gilles book Double Je, especially since I just adore their dreamlike yet crystalline fantasy photography.

The northern window at Agnes B. (103 Greene St.) is evidently the "Homme" display, although I can't say that's the most masculine of outfits. It's quite upscale gay, really . . . although pleasantly clean-cut.

A simple belted sleeveless sack in the southern "Femme" window at Agnes B. The color is bland enough to shift attention to the wearer, and the lines of the dress are flattering, but I don't know . . . I keep picturing Wendie Malick wearing it.

A gorgeously comforting window at Natuzzi (101 Greene St.). I covet those lamps, and I want my entire life to be lived in that kind of soothing, honeyed light. I personally would never buy any white furniture because of the required vigilance of cleanliness, but that chair does appear to be very soft.

Did you know that beauty is a treasure hunt? So says Space NK (99 Greene St.)! I get that they're going for a clean, clinical, streamlined look, but I keep thinking alien autopsy.

A closeup of the chilly window at Space NK.

Alas, I must apologize again for my photos of Armani/Casa at 97 Greene St. This is perhaps my favorite storefront in SoHo, and the window's somber, hushed atmosphere is lusciously cozy in person, and not indicative in my picture. I had to use a flash to avoid blurring, ruining the luxurious, plush murk of the display. When I get rich (however that might happen), I'm walking into this store and hiring them to furnish my entire home.

The southern window of Armani/Casa, photographed with no flash, as evidenced by the blurry trails around the lamp. As much as I adore this store, I'm not sure what room this is meant to showcase. It looks mostly like a women's rest room parlor in a swanky hotel.

The Anne Fontaine storefront at 93 Greene St. Those blouses and bags are so terribly French that they're edging over into caricature. That pink belt just looks slutty.

Speaking of slutty, here's the storefront of La Perla at 93 Greene St. Yes, everyone deserves some sexy undergarments, but I'm not sure if displaying it in the setting of the Red Light District in Amsterdam doesn't tip the fantasy from sexy into sleazy. But maybe women are seeking a touch of Euroskank in their frilly unmentionables, and if so, God bless.

BAPE, at 90 Greene St., compels one bow down to this impressive mirrored shrine to the sneaker. The full name of the store is A Bathing Ape, and I'm not sure if that's an easy fit with this shop's overwhelming opulence.

A closeup of the mirrored sneaker carousel at BAPE.

Intriguing guerrilla poster art in a doorway on Greene St., near Spring St. Those are some perky orange nipples in the top poster! (By Celso, I think.) But I'm most taken with the text on the bottom poster: Good guys finish last. Tedi pees the bed. I saw u with Todd. Ha ha ha ha. New York City Girl Beef. Good work, Haculla.

Greene St. (West Side, between Prince St. and Spring St., Part 1)

More pictures from the evening of February 17, walking down the south side of Greene St., between Prince St. and Spring St.

At 117 Greene St. is Tarina Tarantino, displaying adorably girly costume jewelry. I'm far from immune to the quirky, colorful femininity showcased in this storefront. It's just so dress-up princessy. Where's my purple crystal tiara?

The small side display case of Tarina Tarantino. I took a tall shot here to show off that awesome bordello-wallpaper vertical sign, and the cartoon-sexy bottom panel.

Here's a closeup of small side display case of Tarina Tarantino. Those yellow beads just glow, and I love the gaudy, historical-chic cameo pieces. My mother had a much more demure cameo of Mary, Queen of Scots that she often wore pinned to her silk business blouses, so I'm a sucker for oval cameos, even when the silhouette is set on a tangerine background.

Next door to the south is Anya Hindmarch's designer bag store at 115 Greene St. The big, obviously roomy bag has gorgeous natural leather, and that white clutch has an elegant modernist simplicity.

Here's the south side of the Anya Hindmarch window, with a large, practical day bag that whispers tasteful, moneyed granny. The petite, chic evening clutch is cute, but perhaps a little too hand-painted crafts-fair in appearance to satisfy its aspiration to be an expensive luxury item.

The wacky window of Anna Sui at 113 Greene St. supplies a blast of eccentric energy. The dresses featured are quite cute, although the purple and red retro one strikes me as being more of a costume than an appropriate party dress . . . although maybe that opinion is colored by the mannequin's eye patch. I am a fan of that big gold messenger bag with tassels, though.

At 111 Greene St. is the Adriano Goldschmied store, better known as simply AG Jeans. The shop has been growing in reputation as the hot spot for vintage-inspired denim. While they're visually arresting, I'm not sure those hanging wire-forms make the jeans look all that flattering. They appear wet and wrinkled (or perhaps shellacked), and is there anything more uncomfortable than wearing wet jeans?

Greene St. (West Side, between West Broadway and Prince St.)

I had to be out of my apartment all afternoon on February 17 while it was being cleaned, so I went to see the movie Doubt (quite fabulous and affecting), and then headed back downtown to take pictures. My goal was to attempt to photograph windows just past dusk, when the storefronts would be fully illuminated, but before the stores started closing their protective metal grates. I figured maybe I could eliminate most of the reflections in the window glass if I relied on the displays' lights after the sun had set. Results were mixed, as my photography skills are still disappointingly lacking, but I did manage to add to my repertoire of effects.

These were all taken on the west side of Greene St., heading downtown from West Broadway to Prince St.

At 137 Greene St. is Babette, with some hot librarian outfits in their northern window. I like how the clothes represent so many dichotomies: sexy/dowdy; revealing/demure; modern/historical; American/European; casual/classy; schoolgirl/biddy.

Babette's southern window. Great colors on the right mannequin: a lovely yellow blouse with a nice black placket over a cute, grass-colored shirt, all atop a warm, crinkled-linen long skirt. Both schoolmarmish and approachable. I like the touch of surprise in the right mannequin's pose, too -- she's may lose her shoe! But the silhouette of the outfit on the left seems too fussy, and looks as though both the pants and top have been put on backward.

The Pomegranate Gallery is located at 133 Greene St., and is dedicated to introducing Americans to Middle Eastern art. Is that grid illustrating "Iraqi Art Today" supposed to reference the PC game Minesweeper?

It's an avalanche sale at Cite (131 Greene St.)! Has anyone heard that term before, avalanche sale? I get what they're going for, a really big, out-of-control sale, but I'm not sure I'm down with this expansion of the word avalanche. It's not a reference to a specific designer's furniture -- I checked. Anyway, I usually like Cite's chunky square furniture, but that chair looks awkward and uncomfortable, and I really dislike the burgundy color. And ugh, what is that furry pillow? It looks like diseased coral. Yuck.

Zebras! Baby zebras! I have trouble looking away from the stuffed animals in the window of Kisan (125 Greene St.) in order to pay attention to those smocky black-and-white outfits. The red bag is cool, anyway . . . although the whole display starts to remind of the old joke, What's black and white and red all over? An embarrassed zebra!

Nice, simple, sophisticated shoes in pleasant colors in the Glory Chen shop at 121 Greene St.

The economy's got to be hitting the chunky-marble-sideboard and big-hunk-of-driftwood market pretty hard, right? These objects in the Andrianna Shamaris (121 Greene St.) window remind me of the art and decor in the country house in Beetlejuice, after Catherine O'Hara takes over with her "city" taste.

The huge Replay store at 109 Prince St. has seven windows on its Greene St. side alone! The clothes are aimed at such a classic casual American aesthetic that I had no idea that Replay was actually an Italian company. Starting from the northernmost window, we get basic kids' clothes with some nice pocket details on the pants. I really like the gentle flare of the longer trouser. Plus I adore that wooden hedgehog cutout lurking in the bottom left corner!

That's an adorable white-and-blue spring dress on the creepy wire-headed child mannequin in this Replay window. The other outfits don't differ much from what you might find at Old Navy. The wooden bunny silhouettes on the bottom are cute enough, but the naked pressboard of the big flower is a bit distracting.

Okay, the kids' clothes are passably cute in this Replay window, but those wire-headed mannequins are now reminding me of Giacometti sculptures, which in turn have always struck me as frighteningly post-nuclear. That bear in the bag with the schmatta on its head just looks miserable.

More Replay. I'm glad lighter jeans are coming back in . . . I was so sick of the dark, dirty-looking ones in the heavy, distressed denim.

Despite the cute nipped waist on the cropped jacket, that bland beige-on-white outfit in this Replay window washes even that mannequin out. She's quite the messy painter, no? Why is she painting in slime-green anyway?

I love that sweater in this Replay window. The leather gym bag with the strap is quite chic, too. But why are the mannequin's hands a different color than his head? If those are supposed to be leather gloves worn only with a sweater, I don't think I can support that.

Basic collegiate clothing in the southernmost Replay window on Greene St. On the mannequin on the left, that bag is too purse-like to really accent that outfit's nerdy masculinity. For the mannequin on the right, let me just say that I refuse to wear any item of clothing with a label as obvious as that. If I'm going to be a walking billboard for a brand, they'd better cut me a big check.

Greene St. (between Broome St. and Grand St.)

It was bitterly cold out today, but I wanted to try out my new polarization filter, to see if that helped block out some of the reflections in the glass storefront windows. And . . . not so much. Some of the pictures came out a little better, but some were darker and muddier. I'm going to have to practice more.

Anyway, it was so chilly out (15ºF!) that my hands were shivering and getting chapped, so I only snapped a few storefronts on Greene St., between Grand St. and Broome St., and then one storefront on Broome St. itself that I couldn't resist.

This is the southern window of the Arcadia Fine Arts Gallery at 51 Green St., showing a wickedly cool robot painting by Steven Skollar.

Here are some glitzy and yet simple and elegant Plissé light fixtures at the Luceplan Store at 49 Greene St. "Plissé" apparently means "pleating," and the style is designed by Inga Sempé. The window is created well to showcase these fixtures, with the blue circles suggesting dazzling lightspots.

At 47 Greene St. is the Jonathan Adler store. It's a homey and kitchy window, and of course I'm a fan from seeing him on Top Design and Welcome to the Parker (and from . . . my favorite duvet). The head with the multiple faces reminds me of the animated sequence in Hedwig and the Angry Inch for "Origin of Love." And you know I'm a sucker for a sweet ceramic squirrel wearing a pink bow.

I always enjoy peering into the windows at Waterworks (469 Broome St.). This Greene St.-side shot shows off some of their colorful bathroom tile options. I rent, so I can only dream of redoing my bathroom in a style of my own choice.

I don't think I've ever noticed Sol de Ibiza at 52 Greene St. before, but today I was intrigued by the blue harem pants. That manniquin looks cold! And what's wrong with the wee manniquin? Her pose suggests she may have a yeast infection.

The storefront windows at Sicis (470 Broome St.) are amongst the funkiest in the city. They specialize in mosaic tile designs, which is so very specific. Usually the windows showcase manniquins covered in mirrored mosaic, but recently they switched to these giant flowers and gold chains, which are equally beguiling.