Spring St. (North Side, between Wooster St. and West Broadway)

Here's the final entry of photos taken on the evening of February 17 . . . and about time, as almost a week has passed since then! I have more recent photographs to post! In my earnestness in getting all of SoHo shot, I've been biting off more than I can digest quickly. Patience, my pretty . . . patience.

These are all taken on the north side of Spring St., on the block between Wooster St. and West Broadway.

At 145 Spring St. is Custo Barcelona, which obviously has no time for subtlety. I'm not loving the male mannequin's pajama pants with those sneakers, although the shirts are rather fun. The silky purple women's outfit nearest to the gilded peacock feather placard might work on a certain type of rich bohemian lady, but I suggest she forgo the white turban the outfit might inspire. The next garment to the right is a cute, short number, but in the colors of a technicolor barf. I can get behind the more darkly intense colors of the rightmost dress, but is that a single-celled organism printed on the front? Or merely a pulsating vagina? Each outfit might function at a party for sheer notability, but all together in a display, standing on mirrored gold and silver disks, they're quite an aesthetic assault.

After Custo Barcelona, the muted, sensibly straightforward display of tasteful shoes at Varda (147 Spring St.) comes as a relief. All these handmade Italian shoes have a refined formality, and look completely wearable. I'm coveting the topmost ankle boot.

A distractingly haphazard and brutally amateurish display at the LF store (149 Spring St.). That spray paint graffiti is just ugly, and obscures the clothes, as does the desperate and bewildering ad text. What I can see of the outfits through the window's clutter isn't heinous -- there's a schlumpy, urban nerd-girl coziness that's almost charming. That nasty silver bag is an affront, though, as it looks like a receptacle for toxic biological waste. How this all connects to that antler chandelier, I do not know. But! 60% off!

I've often been intrigued by this window for a store somewhere upstairs at 151 Spring St., which showcases eclectic and often eccentric antiques. Finally reading the text in that small frame, I discovered this is the display for E. Buk Antiques, which sells oddball items and quirky collectibles, and rents historically accurate props for movie, television, and photography studios. Honestly fascinating.

Another storefront with distracting text, Theory, at 151 Spring St., otherwise has a direct approach to showcasing its clothing that I appreciate. (Although I keep thinking of Marge Simpson telling her family, "We can't afford to shop anywhere that has a philosophy.") I love the striped sweater in the middle. I'm not completely convinced by the messy black-and-white checked print on the flanking mannequins, but it's not offensive.

Comptoir des Cotonniers, at 155 Spring St. I dig how their storefront is designed as a classic house window. The pinkish dress is almost cute, but the proportions are strange . . . it seems too short below that waist panel . . . and the cap sleeves throw off the whole look. The sleek gray trenchcoat is fab, though, as are the scrunchy leather boots.

Also sharing 155 Spring St. is Atelier Minyon, showcasing their Ottoman Empire-inspired handcrafted jewelry. I love the repeated crescent moon symbol (which the Ottoman Empire adopted after conquering Constantinople, and later came to represent Islam in general), especially on the towering bronze display tower. The full window display of their glittering jewelry is opulently overwhelming, but all my other photos showing the complete sweep of gems and gold came out blurry.

Here's the eastern side of the window at Wink (155 Spring St.). Even though at first glance, the storefront appears cluttered, the display somehow manages to give each item its due. Someone understands the progression of eye movement! The store also has an inviting thrift-store atmosphere, although I'm honestly not greatly impacted by the apparel itself, even though I appreciate the styling.

The western side of the window at Wink. That's a chic hat, and while the bag may be too much, at least it's black.

At the busy corner of Spring St. and West Broadway is Sunglass Hut (157 Spring St.), for all your overpriced sunglasses needs. The clerk was sitting in this window, talking on her cell phone, when I first started taking pictures. When she spotted me, she bolted into the back of the store. Either she really hates having her picture taken, or she was afraid she'd get busted by her boss for chatting on her phone during work hours.