Fashion district

There's a sign on a pole as South Spring Street crosses 7th Street in downtown Los Angeles that says "Fashion District." The center of the garment industry on the West Coast, this 90 block area of town includes retail stores, wholesale distributors, supply and material dealers and factories, as well as schools to train young designers and manufacturers. It encompasses the southern portion of the historic core and runs south and west where low concrete block warehouses line potholed streets.

Here at Spring Street, gentrification hasn't quite touched the old buildings, which are still shabbily beautiful. At 721 S. Spring, we would have completely missed the California Millinery Supply, if it weren't for the sign in the window.

A single piece of white paper was stuck on the glass, in front of the white, winged shapes that were buckram hat frames. "Thoughts," it said, in ornate fraktur script. And a list:

• The greatest handicap                     Fear
• The best day                                  Today
• Easiest thing to do                          Find a fault

And on and on, down to the last:

• Greatest thing in the world               Love

The doors

 We decided to look inside. A set of heavy bronze doors, ornately embossed, stood open, leading to a narrow warren of a shop, display cases and cutting tables on one side, racks and racks of goods on the other.

"Come in, you can look around." The voice came from a grey-haired woman sitting behind a desk. A long-haired grey cat uncoiled itself and jumped down from a chair it was sleeping in, and scurried to the back of the space.

The rows and rows of shelves were lined with braid, ribbon, piping, fringe. There were boards holding samples of silk flowers. The whole place looked like a treasure chest to explore.

"It's funny," I said. "I never wear hats, but now I find myself wanting to make them!"  When we stepped back outside and looked up at the curiously beautiful building, we noticed, up high in a protected niche, a colorful figure of a standing Buddha.

California Millinery Supply has been at 721 S. Spring Street since 1939. 

Everything old is new again

Vintage Vivienne Westwood blazer

 They say that popular culture is cyclical - things that are in fashion will soon go out, and become as stale as yesterday's toast. Then some discerning soul will discover, hidden in dusty archive, attic, or passed-on hoarder's estate sale, some forgotten object, garment or artifact that bursts anew onto the scene, fresh again!

Are you old enough to remember the Beatles' re-discovery of Edwardian style in the '60s? "Winchester Cathedral" bo-doh-dee-oh-ing? Remember when we all dressed like Bonnie and Clyde, maxiskirts and berets? The shoulder-padded suits of the '80s, "Blade Runner's" Rachael echoing the Andrews Sisters? How about neo-hippie chic?Neo Marilyn? Retro punk?

BoHo Beyonce

In this digital age, it's even easier to resurrect the ancient archives of lame past fashions. It's why high school kids still listen to music their parents got high to - as if it were still as new and subversive as in 1968, instead of inhabiting some corporate Classic Rock radio playlist. It's why vinyl is cool, why cats-eye eyeliner and beehive hairdos rocked Camden Market, and why TVland is so popular. Why "Mad Men" brought back chartreuse and portrait necklines. The rise of Steam Punk.

Sometimes the trendsetters elevate some past trend to new prominence out of pure unabashed admiration. The raw, proto-sound of Delta Blues or early rockabilly are art forms in their own rights. But sometimes I think today's hipsters elevate certain aged styles or trends with a sense of irony - these hoary artifacts were lame during their heyday, and isn't it all a joke that they've retained their lameness over time?

At least I hope that's the case with one such blast from the past I experienced yesterday evening.

I was at an event, a party celebrating the anniversary of a leading edge arts institute. Everyone was there - leaders, young artists, powerful money, and rebels. There were women in amazing shoes, young men with strange geometric hair. We sipped champagne and nibbled fashionable "comfort food" hors d'ouevres like wee grilled cheese sandwiches.

The place was hopping, lit up with LED blue lights, and in the back by the bar a DJ rocked the joint with smoking tunes that blared from speakers hung all around the event space.

And then I heard it. One of the lamest songs ever to come out of the early 70's. Yes, that entirely too-cute, droll Paul and Linda McCartney jingle "Uncle Albert/Admiral Halsey" where Paul shows the world that without John Lennon, he's as hokey and inane as any teenybopper flash-in-the-pan. If this has been elevated to the newly-hip, I cringed, waiting for the next tune.  "Jeremiah was a bullfrog," maybe?

Everything old is new again. Even crappy music.

For your inner faun

Here's a pair of cloven-hooved booties seen in London's Brick Lane. Wear them for your Dionysian New Years' Eve revels!

Boxing Day madness

Regent Street on Boxing Day morning

 Boxing Day is the day after Christmas. As traditions go, it's the day that servants and other service workers would receive a 'Christmas box' from their employers or betters. We Americans don't really go in much for this class based culture (although don't kid yourself that class isn't part of American culture..) Yet we can certainly embrace what Boxing Day has evolved into here in the UK - a mad shopping day where everyone scrambles for bargains.

Christmas shopping in Beverly Hills

Santa flies over Wilshire Boulevard at Beverly Blvd.

I've lived in Los Angeles for almost fifteen years now, and although I explore many parts of the city, the one place I seldom go is Beverly Hills.

But, today, [The Man I Love] had a business lunch meeting at Spago in Beverly Hills. I was feeling adventurous, so I invited myself to come along. While he was at his meeting, I would shop.

The shopping I do now is the window variety - I'm saving up my shopping money for London. But I get a lot of enjoyment from window shopping and taking in the ambiance and impressions of a place.

Strolling shoppers on Canon Drive

Spago is on Canon Drive just north of Wilshire Boulevard. We pulled up at the valet stand, and had one of those peculiar convivial encounters one frequently finds at the valet stand in LA. An older couple waiting for their car was curious about our Honda Fit. The man pressed his nose to the back window. "Does it have seats back there?" he asked. We assured him it did. [The Man I Love] testified to the Fit's ability to transport cargo like large dogs and upright string bass fiddles. Then their Mercedes was brought around, and we parted ways.

Crimes against fashion

Ladies, I know at the age of 58, I am probably not the most fashionable, beautiful, or elegant person in the world.

I am happily married to a wonderful man who, at his age, is similarly flawed.

I have had to accept, in him, a widening ass, a protruding tummy, greying hair and the embarrassing disappearance of hair on the top of his head.

He has had to accept, in me, a widening ass, a protruding tummy, greying hair, and the embarrassing emergence of hair on my upper lip.

We have also had to accept one another's choice to prefer comfort over sexiness in our apparel. We may have been too eager to embrace frumpiness in our search for ease.

Click to "embiggen" if you can bear it.

But as for me, I have to draw the line at some choices. We were standing in line for a sandwich at Philippe's in downtown Los Angeles, and the gentleman in front of us was wearing these shoes. He was with his wife, and while I appreciate how true love could see beyond the sagging pants, the love handles at his waist, the untrimmed hair on the back of his neck, I do not understand how she could have allowed him to leave the house wearing these things.

If [The Man I Love] ever chooses to wear shoes like these, I am filing for divorce.