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I get Fridays off for eight weeks in the summer (since I hold down two jobs currently and usually work seven days a week, getting eight Fridays free during the dog days of summer is, as you might imagine, a godsend).
And today's been as lovely a free Friday as one could hope for. It's hot today in NYC, but the humidity, which renders summers here so very brutal, is down a bit. And I got to enjoy a fancy-schmancy (and quite leisurely) lunch at the delightful Tabla in the company of two good friends.
Like I said, just a lovely summer Friday. But it got even better.
There's a nice vintage clothing shop, Jim Smiley Vintage Clothing on the south side of 23rd street, about halfway between Sixth and Seventh Avenues, that I stop in once or twice a year. It's on the second floor and so probably escapes the notice of most passersby, but it's run by a nice fellow, and the clothes are of a high quality.
He sells mostly women's clothes, so it takes little time at all to go through his menswear. And the prices tend to be on the high side, though not, I suppose, unreasonable, considering the quality. A flea market this is not.
So I stop in now and then, just to savor the beautiful old clothes, even if I don't buy.
But today, I came across a black men's suit from the 1950s, in winter-weight wool. There's a hint of navy blue to it, but it's darker than navy. And in the right light at just the right angle, there are thin black-on-black stripes in the weave.
A very nice suit. Probably not a terribly pricey or upscale one in its day, but vintage men's suit buyers can't terribly choosy.
Surprisingly, the price was just $75. Clearance priced, I guess.
There were no measurements or sizing info on the price tag, so I tried on the jacket, expecting little. What were the chances, after all?
It fit perfectly, or darned close to it. Could/should it be let out perhaps, half an inch? Maybe, but I'm not that good at judging such things, frankly. It's not as though I trouble buttoning it. And the store owner thought it fit just right.
But surely the pants wouldn't fit, right? "What size are the trousers?" I asked the proprietor. He wasn't sure, but reached quickly for his measuring tape.
They were thirty-four inches in the waist, as it turned out. My size.
But surely the length was wrong. I didn't ask him to measure the inseam; I just headed for the dressing room.
They were the perfect length.
So today I bought a very nice, black, winter-weight suit from the 1950s for $75.
Then I went next door to a flashier vintage store at street level. They have some great stuff, but they're very pricey. I saw a great blue suit, lighter than navy and darker than royal blue. Winter-weight wool. The coat fit like a dream, and the pants appeared as if they would (I didn't try them on). But it was $350. Not so bad, really, as these things go. I was tempted. It was a very nice suit.
But I resisted, since I had a great $75 suit in the shopping back I'd checked behind the counter.
I now own three suits (all vintage). I'm nearly a grownup.
Doesn't matter how the rest of my day off goes now. It already qualifies as a success. And if I succumb to the urge to nap here in a few minutes, it'll be well night perfect.
Posted by brett at 05:40 PM | TrackBack