this summer, jane and i had the pleasure of hanging out one lazy sunday afternoon with gelsomina and anthony. we whiled the afternoon away, sipping champagne and eating cheese, then enjoyed a stroll (and some ice cream) in their corner of brooklyn ... delightful!
i was ranting - what a shock - about how smith street is too faux-french-ified for me (every second restaurant is a pastis wannabe, and let's face it, who wants to be like pastis to begin with - except for the fries!). i also lamented the absolute overabundance of pillow stores - what is that, you may ask? well, let me tell you - no, shout it from the rooftops - enough with the large, square, bloated pillows! raw silk! velvet! embroidered! leather! stoppppp! every store on smith street carries an extensive and ridiculously priced range of pillows - what is everyone DOING with all of these pillows??? who's BUYING all of these pillows??? uggghhh.
at any rate, just as my tirade was picking up steam, we happened upon a small design shop called matter. hmmmm. no pillows in the vitrine. where could they be hiding them? we hesitated. maybe they have a pillow annex. should we dare go in?
we crossed the threshold into another world. matter. design. poetry in lighting, ceramics, creativity. some of these pieces you've surely seen in other places which are not as humble, or comforting, as matter. a delight! "where do you keep your large, square velvet pillows", i ask. "excuse me?", says the clerk in a bewildered tone. "well, we ARE still in brooklyn, aren't we? where ARE your pillows???", i insist. "well, we don't really carry pillows", she resists.
heaven.
pillow free.
finally, i can focus on some interesting and thoughtful objects. "did you know that we have another location, in nolita?", she mentions casually. have a reached nirvana? "really? we're down there every sunday morning for breakfast", i reply, burnishing my brass buttons and smoking my pipe (not really). "well, do drop in some time", she smiled.
we did! we did! and we loved it! a totally quaint and pleasant shop calls out from the depths of broome street. the lovely zero table. the bowl made of fused toy soldiers. super fixtures. yeah!
so, the next time you need to lay your head down, forget smith street and do something that really matters...
h
i was ranting - what a shock - about how smith street is too faux-french-ified for me (every second restaurant is a pastis wannabe, and let's face it, who wants to be like pastis to begin with - except for the fries!). i also lamented the absolute overabundance of pillow stores - what is that, you may ask? well, let me tell you - no, shout it from the rooftops - enough with the large, square, bloated pillows! raw silk! velvet! embroidered! leather! stoppppp! every store on smith street carries an extensive and ridiculously priced range of pillows - what is everyone DOING with all of these pillows??? who's BUYING all of these pillows??? uggghhh.
at any rate, just as my tirade was picking up steam, we happened upon a small design shop called matter. hmmmm. no pillows in the vitrine. where could they be hiding them? we hesitated. maybe they have a pillow annex. should we dare go in?
we crossed the threshold into another world. matter. design. poetry in lighting, ceramics, creativity. some of these pieces you've surely seen in other places which are not as humble, or comforting, as matter. a delight! "where do you keep your large, square velvet pillows", i ask. "excuse me?", says the clerk in a bewildered tone. "well, we ARE still in brooklyn, aren't we? where ARE your pillows???", i insist. "well, we don't really carry pillows", she resists.
heaven.
pillow free.
finally, i can focus on some interesting and thoughtful objects. "did you know that we have another location, in nolita?", she mentions casually. have a reached nirvana? "really? we're down there every sunday morning for breakfast", i reply, burnishing my brass buttons and smoking my pipe (not really). "well, do drop in some time", she smiled.
we did! we did! and we loved it! a totally quaint and pleasant shop calls out from the depths of broome street. the lovely zero table. the bowl made of fused toy soldiers. super fixtures. yeah!
so, the next time you need to lay your head down, forget smith street and do something that really matters...
h
No comments:
Post a Comment