Today I wore a black leather Kenneth Cole car coat that I bought from Filene’s Basement in 1996. The coat is a classic double-breasted style with roomy pockets. It’s heavy with a silk Sunback lining. The leather is a bit distressed on the seams and around the buttonholes, and all the buttons have been replaced. The coat was relined was in 2006. It always gets compliments and is widely coveted by friends and strangers. I’m thinking about handcuffing it to myself whenever I wear it. Anyone who tries to steal it gets me as part of the deal.
Filene’s Basement was my playground. I always found the hottest labels (BCBG, Earl Jeans, Nicole Miller, Theory, Prada, Donna Karan) at prices that didn’t send me swooning to the ladies lounge. Filene’s Basement in Center City Philadelphia also featured a fur department--a little something for the wealthy who appreciate a bargain.
During a long-ago morning commute a big rusty smudge attached itself to my freshly dry-cleaned beige slacks. I had an important meeting that day, so it was Filene’s to the rescue. I dashed to the store that was three blocks from my office and bought a pair of dependable black pants. Filene’s motto should have been, “here I come to save the day,” but my buddy Mighty Mouse had a lock on it.
The end of an era came much too soon. I loved the stores in Washington DC, where I scored great stuff like silver star-studded Converse, a Vivienne Tam Mod-inspired black knit tunic, and a cute color block dress that screams for 60s-style go-go boots. I’ll always cherish the retail therapy sessions that Filene’s offered. A moment of silence, please.
No comments:
Post a Comment