This was an odd weekend, with some strange ups and downs, as well as some odd Mayle sightings.
I had a baby shower to attend on Saturday, which was an event I was dreading. If I hadn't liked my friend as much, I would have sent a gift but not attended. It was as difficult as expected, but I'm not going to belabor the point. Matters of greater interest to most of us followed.
To get to these, I need to backtrack less than 24 hours. Class at NYU finished on Friday at 4.30. I briefly checked my email then headed first to the News sample sale to look at the Lyell pieces (according to racked.com, 8 and 10s were in plentiful supply the day before) and then Babies R Us to get my friend's gifts.
The News was bad. I should have realized when a group of teens crowded into the elevator to head up for the sale. I have a fear of being trapped in elevators and generally don't like to be in one alone or with large groups who can cause the mechanisms to fail. I've been caught in three broken down elevators (all within a span of months in 2004) so this anxiety is born out of circumstance not suspicion. Anyway, the sale was filled with Cheap Monday, odd Clu pieces and only small sized Lyell items (mainly 2 and 4--and this is a brand that runs very small). They had the smocked shirt I liked from the holiday collection, in 2 and 4 only of course, but the rest were pieces I'd seen at the sample sale and either bought (the Moon print dress) or passed on (camisoles, pencil skirts and light wash jeans).
This is only relevant because when I got home, I found an email from Marti passing on a tip--Clothilde in cassis was at Tokio 7, in size 8 no less. With minutes before the store closed, I got on the phone and described the top. The Japanese man on the end of the phone tried to help but explained they actually had closed. He didn't seem to understand what I said (maybe he can't understand English accents?) and told me to call back tomorrow (Saturday). Meanwhile, it was Evan's birthday and he was both curious and a little bit amused by the way I ran into the bedroom to make this call. I was, of course, racked with guilt.
I called T7 the next morning, got the same guy who had noticeably less tolerance for my obsession with that dark pink blouse with the ruffled three-quarter length sleeves in size 8, label MAYLE not male... He told me to come in now, I explained I couldn't. He finally passed me onto an American girl who took down the description and told me to call back at 5.
Well, I was determined to do more than that. I couldn't really leave the shower early but I kept thinking it would be fitting if this caused me to miss out on one of my most desired Mayle tops. Not only did I have to deal with all my horrible emotions about not being pregnant, not having a child, but I'd have been on the wrong side of the consignment fates.
As the shower was in Williamsburg, it wasn't long before I was in T7--by 5.15. I searched the store several times. Nothing vaguely like Clothilde. My friend Lisa texted me, I called her back. As I ruffled for the fourth and last time through the pink/red/burgandy shirts (about 5 of them), I told her about Clothilde. Within seconds, a girl came out with the very same top on a hanger. It was the woman I spoke to. I bade Lisa a brief and interim farewell, tried it on, tried it on again, looked at my reflection, took it off, inspected the seam allowances, and put it back on. It was in perfect condition, a tiny bit tight in the back/shoulders, but nothing that a seam adjustment (or the loss of 5 lbs) couldn't fix. There was no size 10. This would be it.
And with that, it was mine. $150 plus tax for a piece I never thought I'd own. Lesson one here--don't give up--on finding Mayle, no matter how rare or coveted. Or, I could extrapolate, on the baby/job/book projects.
This is not where the story ends. I was walking down 2nd Avenue on my way to meet Evan at Whole Foods when I saw that distinctive sight--Federica in Amalfi. It was another friend wearing Mayle! (And, no, it was not for sale). After we chatted and I shared my find, I headed off thinking yet again, how nice the people are that I've met through Mayle, this blog, the store, etc.
From Whole Foods, where I prepped a class, we headed off to meet friends for dinner at the Madras Cafe, then headed over to the Sunshine to see the new Soderberg digital film, The Girlfriend Experience. It stars Sasha Gray, a 21 year old real life porn star, as a high class escort and connects prostitution/consumerism/the economic collapse (not in the same ways as Jean Luc Godard's 1960s work but it's a good film even if it isn't as original as some might claim--but what is originality today?). I was impressed--the film draws you in and is pretty powerful and funny. Gray is really beautiful so you do wonder why she's doing what she does for a living, especially as she has no implants or any of the cosmetic work associated with the porn industry. She's also affectless in the way of a jaded teen which Soderberg uses to its best effect. The movie is shot around Manhattan and even references watching a film at the Sunshine at the start, so there was a strange sense of it being very close to home as well as quite distant (the extreme wealth it showcases). It also featured a critic quoting Jamie Gillis, the porn star who is friends of friends who I had dinner with in December at his wife's restaurant. So an odd connection there, especially as porn is not part of my orbit or academic life (sexploitation, yes, especially Doris Wishman/Randy Metzger and dear Joe Sarno).
The theater was packed but not so much that I didn't notice a girl arrive in front of me carrying a Tati bag (I had my Agnes with me). About 2/3 of the way in, there's a shopping montage where Gray goes to Costume National and then, bizarrely, to EMC2, the boring boutique next to Mayle (not a place you'd associate with the kind of European designers Gray's character wears and namechecks throughout). So, I point at the screen, nudge Evan (and maybe squeak just a little). The fourth Mayle sighting of the day--Clothilde, Federica, the Tati, and now the exterior of 242 Elizabeth, shot back in October-November 08, before the first discounts on Fall, when we hadn't seen holiday or resort 08, didn't know about the re-editions, hadn't entered the store for the last time. Here it was, up and running, the windows not covered in paper. Of course, Mayle wasn't the star--it was just in the shot, part of that NYC time capsule the film created, giving it a little extra resonance for me--and maybe that girl who pulled her water bottle out of Tati just a few seats ahead of me.
