New SoHo Map!

Thanks to my friend Gail, I no longer have to have a stolen map up there on the top right of the blog sidebar . . . she made me a new one! So big appreciation to her for that.

Gail said I should also give thanks to the City of New York for making their Geographic Information Systems (GIS) free and accessible. Thanks, NYC!

Click the map to embiggen in a new window.

Prince St. (South Side, between Wooster St. and Greene St.)

Heading east on the south side of Prince St., from Wooster St. to Greene St., around 3:30 in the afternoon on February 10. An unseasonably warm, overcast day. The streets were teeming with tourists.

In the storefront of 126 Prince St. is the Carrol Boyes shop, showing her range of handcrafted metal flatware and tableware. There are some odd, unique, little gifty things in here that look pretty interesting, but the window itself suffers from overkill -- with all the glittering objects, it's difficult to focus on any one thing. The hanging paper sculptures aren't helping the clutter issue. Although I do love the chunky people drawings on the ceiling.

There's a terrific handmade handle on the Carrol Boyes store door.

I just love these leftover signs around the city. This rusted old sign is advertising "Commercial Printing, Stationery, Office Supplies, Paper & Twine." Something about this relic really reminds me of an old-school Main Street shop.

The Morrison Hotel Gallery, at 124 Prince St., always has cool photos of rock stars in their window. I dig the anti-pose Kurt Cobain is striking in the big central photo (by Jesse Frohman), and the sleepy, shirtless Miles Davis pic on the left.

The painted jeweled frame in the window of Reinstein/Ross (122 Prince St.) is memorable, and harks toward the store's Egyptian and Etruscan jewelry designs, but the display case is far back away from the window, and lit so that it glows like a sci-fi incubator, making everything in it difficult to see from the street. Also, the security guard (seen as a creepy shadow in the bottom right corner of the photo) glares at everyone who walks by.

At 118 Prince St. is ultra-modern toy and clothing store Kidrobot. Apparently, that giant blue thing in the window is called a Munny, and is made of inflatable vinyl. Although my eye is more quickly drawn to the gleeful Paul McCartney figure by Medicomtoy. The mannequin modeling the fitted hoodie and skinny jeans needs to eat a sandwich, stat, even if she makes for a rather cute nerd girl. I prefer my geeky girlfriends without the horrifying eating disorders.

Yes, I realize I'm anthropomorphizing all these mannequins. But isn't that the point of mannequins?

Kidrobot's eastern window. Is this what the cool kids are wearing these days? I guess the outfits are working that retro-future vibe, but I personally would rather expire than wear a giant, useless safety-pin jammed into the front of my cap.

That's a lot of pink butterflies! Fragments, at 116 Prince St., adds a splash of color to their winter window. I can take or leave the dead trees and fake snow, but I dig the diorama in the middle.

I don't know if Joseph Cornell would love or loathe this "box" in the Fragments window, but I think it works as a great way to make the scale of a full storefront feel more intimate, and sets the jewelry in an unexpected surrealist pastoral narrative.

The Karen Millen flagship store is located at 112-114 Prince St. While I lost some of the photos of the other windows due to reflections and glare (and, um . . . focus), the blend of the snappy green military coat, the mannequin's pose, and the lights all work together to make the image feel quite ecstatic.

Not sure what to say about this display at Karen Millen, except if this alabaster creature greeted me at the door of a fancy dinner party, I'm not sure if I would pretend not to notice that she looks like a refugee from the attenuated aliens of Close Encounters of the Third Kind . . . or if I would run screaming. Nice, simple, flowy black dress, though, even if the pleats give her a rounded mound of tummy.

At 110 Prince St. is Face Stockholm, a Swedish cosmetics and skin care shop. This is the view through the door, as they don't do much with the storefront on the Prince St. side. I like the interior's aesthetic combination of apothecary shop and boudoir.

But my favorite thing about Face Stockholm's shop is that row of busts on top of the cabinet in the back. Freaky and fabulous.

A jewelry street vendor on the corner of Prince St. and Greene St. The guy hunched over was busy twisting wire for new ornaments created on the spot. This booth means business -- they take VISA, MasterCard, or American Express! I do enjoy the serious sparseness of their display.

Trumping

After months of a stop-work injunction that kept construction on the Trump SoHo Hotel Condominium (warning: site has nasty automatic music) ground to an unfinished halt, I've noticed over the past few weeks that the little external construction elevators are moving again, and the glass panels are once again climbing toward the top. I found an unsurprising article in the New York Times that talks about Trump getting his building permit upheld after it was called into question.

Yes, it's entirely out of place in the neighborhood, and yes, it damages the small-village character of SoHo. But I can't fight Trump, so I've decided to get used to that glass monstrosity towering over everything. The picture above is from February 10th, from Spring St., near Thompson St., at dusk.

I was standing in front of Metropolitan Hardware . . . note the little forklift in the bottom left corner.

Wooster St. (East Side, between Spring St. and Prince St.)

Tuesday, February 10 was unseasonably warm here in SoHo . . . close to 65°F! Which meant that the neighborhood was jam-packed with shoppers, and I was doing a little back-and-forth, wait-to-shoot, wave-them-past sidewalk dance to take these pictures.

These shots were taken on the east side of Wooster St., heading north from Spring St. to Prince St. We're up to the glitzier stores in the village mall now.

Chanel, sweetie-darling, Chanel. 139 Spring St. These pictures are from the Wooster St. side only. Yes, they're absolutely fabulous, and reek of Patsy Stone. I do rather adore the man's houndstooth hat balanced on the femme's upsweep. The expression of the model on the right makes me think that Mrs. Dalloway decided to buy the flowers herself.

Ladies of a certain age, don't drool on your keyboard. Terribly difficult to clean.

That navy dress is gorgeous; love the stitching detail. And the white pants would look fantastic on Kelly Rutherford on Gossip Girl, although she would fill out that top much better.

You older gals, didn't I tell you what would happen if you didn't quit that messy drooling?

Eres, at 98 Wooster St. Please be wearing the giant panties! Although the affectless expression on the mannequins' faces makes this window look like a Stepford Wife showroom showcase.

More Eres. Those are happy, fun colors for swimsuits, but the headbands are rather awkwardly retro, and the mustard and ochre ones are just plain ugly.

The northernmost window of Eres. That's a pretty sexy bra to be wearing with those dowdy pajamas. I kind of like the Olympic-inspired swimsuit in the back. More stupid headbands. Really, they look like misplaced belts.

Quite safari, quite Kristin Scott Thomas. Although I like the lines of the hooded white raincoat in the back, especially with the big buttons, and paired with that red bag. Not sure what the point is of the high breast zippers on the jacket on the right. m0851, at 106 Wooster St, south window.

I'm coveting that raincoat on the left; elegant yet casual simplicity. Not loving the hooded leather jacket, especially not with a blue-gray messenger bag. The short, fitted white jacket in the back, paired with that red messenger bag, seems a little too British nurse, circa WWI. m0851, north window.

Ugh, I loathe that ugly sailor-tattoo V in the Korres window at 110 Wooster St. What does that have to do with homeopathic Greek moisturizer?

You're not allowed to wear any of the items in the São window (112 Wooster St.) until after you've had your first face lift. But I am not immune to the charms of the nubbly red jacket hanging in a picture frame; love that collar.

Okay. This is the southern window at multi-label Amalga, at 114 Wooster St. This is a store that prides itself on "Japanese niche brands and ultramodern pieces" with a "casual, goth-y rock & roll flair" . . . and that has to do with hanging rows of leather sausages how, exactly? I have to admit that the acid tag on the window does support the punk-Goth ambiance nicely.

I believe (from the lettering on the glass) that these are Thomas Wylde Resort Collection items in the Amalga northern window. I have to say, I rather love the Gothic flapper style. It's difficult to be both hard-edged and feminine, and these pull it off.

Heinous nastiness on the Tiffany-blue mannequins in the south window of Barney's CO-OP (116 Wooster St.). Let's see . . . smocky black-and-white kulottes? Flower/lepoard-print slutwear? A hippy gray gingham nightmare? Awful. But (up to) 75% off!

The northern window at Barney's CO-OP is infinitely better. Those sweaters are perfectly wearable.

I get that Giggle (120 Wooster St.) wants to show off their cute pink sheet sets, but that crib setup doesn't leave a lot of room for the baby . . . unless you want a princess-and-the-pea, falling-onto-the-floor sort of situation. Those big plastic babies are right on the edge of cute and horrifying, but I'm going to go with "cute" so I don't have nightmares.

All right, I can see the Twiggy '60s Mod thing working on the mannequin on the right in the tibi (120 Wooster St.) storefront, but what's the matter with the mannequin collapsed on the floor? I suppose the relaxed pose and embellished tank-top are meant to suggest a certain casualness, but I keep thinking she's going to burst into over-dramatic sobs.

Also at 120 Wooster St. is BCBG Max Azria, with frilly dresses in painful colors. Plus floating lime-green umbrellas.

A picture of the inside of the BCBG Max Azria store, taken through the open doorway. Is Falcon Crest back on the air?

Now that's a gorgeous yellow! Pleats Please Issey Miyake, at 128 Wooster St. It's hard to make a burnt orange happy and feminine, but these manage it somehow.

More happy springtime clothes in the corner window at Pleats Please Issey Miyake. I love the geometric bags. (Picture taken from Prince St. side.)

Another shot of the Pleats Please Issey Miyake storefront from the Prince St. side. While the first few hanging articles might be too busy (and loud), I adore that soft blue in the middle of the rack.

Billboard

An enormous billboard overlooking the intersection of Watts St. and Thompson St. Basically, Watts St. serves as the feeder street to the Holland Tunnel, and it's congested with heavy traffic at rush hour, which means commuters spend long minutes staring at this billboard.

While I'm wholeheartedly in agreement with the sign's sentiments, and that rottweiler is pretty cute, the choppy urban splatter graphics are so very tired.

And can we put an end to the random use of "It's all good!" Please?

Does it say "sux" on the dog's collar? At first glance, I thought he was wearing a bow tie.

West Broadway (West Side, between Spring St. and Broome St.)

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.