New Yorkers need to know. Corky Pollan sifts through your most pressing questions about shopping – where to, what for – and sends you in the right direction.
Florists
You’ve probably seen them all, but do you have a favorite florist?
Six. My taste runs to simple, somewhat romantic floral arrangements, though I’ve been bowled over by painter turned floral designer Wolfgang Thom of Decor Floral (227 West 29th Street; 279-9066) and his bold, wondrous mixings of blossoms, berries, and branches. And, after so many years, Ronaldo Maia’s (27 East 67th Street; 288-1049) inventive arrangements remain a constant surprise. I love Antony Todd’s (by appointment only; 367-7363) offbeat colors and the just-picked look of his compositions, and the folks at Larkspur (148 Duane Street, near West Broadway, 727-0587) for simply concentrating on great flowers – no gimmicks. I’m a pushover for the monochromatic (all white, all apricot, all whatever) bouquets created by Zezé Calvo of Zezé Flowers (398 East 52nd Street; 753-7767), but I have a special weakness for the sweet-smelling nosegays Jae Chong creates at Spring Street Gardens (186 1/2 Spring Street; 966-2015).
Vintage Maps
I’ve become interested in old maps,and I’m searching for ones suitable for framing. Where do I look?
Serious cartography collectors head for Richard B. Arkway (59 East 54th Street, Sixth floor; 751-8135), a quiet sanctuary filled with rare specimens: fifteenth-century pre-Columbus views; Dutch maps from the seventeenth century (the golden age of mapmaking); early ones of the world and of just about every country, including the first maps to show the United States. It’s a welcoming shop even for the uninitiated, and Paul Cohen, the gallery director, has such a contagious love for maps you’re sure to be as smitten as I was. Some cost no more than a pair of Prada shoes ($450), but most are in the designer-coat range ($1,500 to $6,000): not bad for works of art rife with history, created by the best cartographers of their times.
North of Richard B. Arkway and tucked away on the sixth floor is Martayan Lan (70 East 55th Street; 308-0018), the city’s only other gallery specializing in early and rare maps – and another novice-friendly shop.The framed maps covering several walls are a fraction of the inventory, which includes views from the 1400s, pre-Columbus world maps, early maps of the heavens, and many by the Dutch masters. Drawers are organized by country, city, and region. Maps go for as little as $200 to $300, but most are $500 to $10,000, with some in the six-figure range – a lot of Prada shoes.
It looks like a library, but the Argosy Book Store (116 East 59th Street; 753-4455) has a print department with an astonishing array of early maps collected over seven decades. Adina Cohen, Judith Lowry, and Naomi Hample (daughters of Lewis Cohen, the original owner) tell me that every country, every state, every county in every part of the world has at one time or another been stashed away in one of Argosy’s folders. Maps are organized by year. Prices are as low as $50 and just about everything is under $1,000.
The selection is quirky, the shop cluttered, but – as when shopping at Loehmann’s in its heyday – I get a rush of anticipation whenever I stop by Pageant Book & Print Shop (114 West Houston Street; 674-5296). Where else could you find an 1867 map of Wappingers Falls for $40? Most date from the 1860s to the early 1900s, with some seventeenth-century European ones. There are county maps of the northeastern states, and many of Manhattan: city views, borough atlases, neighborhoods. Nothing is more than $400; most are $10-to-$200.
Kids’ Shoes
Who carries children’s shoes that both parents and kids can love?
Lug soles are less clunky and heels are shrinking, so this season there should be fewer battles between moms and kids. At Great Feet (1241 Lexington Avenue, at 84th Street; 249-0551) the hot looks are velveteen slip-ons, penny loafers with shaped heels that look higher than they are, and Kenneth Cole’s Reaction Brady boots and his very metallic Mary Janes; for boys it’s the Tommy Hilfiger black oxford and Cole’s suede oxford. Now that Stride Rite has inched into fashion (with raspberry-red velvet loafers and such), kids and their parents can shop happy.
Wedge-soles are the word at Shoofly (465 Amsterdam Avenue, near 82nd Street, 580-4390; and 42 Hudson Street, 406-3270). Roz Viemeister has them in loafers, Mary Janes, and ankle boots. Rugged hiking boots are winners with both girls and boys, and a black suede oxford with a round toe and a refined lug sole is tops with the guys.
Velours, velvets, Lycra – anything fabric – rules at Little Eric (1118 Madison Avenue, near 83rd Street, 717-1513; and 1331 Third Avenue, near 76th Street, 288-8987). The look for boys is very dad: wing-tip tie shoes and tasseled penny loafers. And shoes this season have moved beyond black, to brown and blue.
Bed Linens
Do you have a favoritelinen store?
If I ever won the lottery, all my bed linens would come from D. Porthault (18 East 69th Street; 688-1660) or Pratesi (829 Madison Avenue, near 69th Street; 288-2315), whose fabled high-thread-count sheets are gentle lullabies. Until then, I head instead for less regal bedding. Macy’s Herald Square (151 West 34th Street; 695-4400) has a mind-boggling selection – I’ve counted more than twenty major names, including Ralph Lauren, Palais Royal, and Calvin Klein – on the newly renovated sixth floor. I check out Bed Bath and Beyond (620 Sixth Avenue, at 18th Street; 255-3550) for its selection of less exalted brands and discount prices. But I turn to ABC Carpet & Home (888 Broadway, at 19th Street, third floor; 737-3000) for patterns and names I can’t find anywhere else. Much of the sheeting that’s sumptuously layered on the antique beds was created by ABC in France, Italy, and Portugal; other linens are by little-known designers; still others are exclusive to the store.
Antique andSemi-Antique Rugs
We’ve finally put aside money to buy an antique rug – but what stores can we trust?
PrimeTime Live’s journalists once did an exposé of the rug industry and discovered that of thirteen rug dealers they investigated, twelve misled them regarding the age, country of origin, materials, or condition of the rug. Since antique carpets are such big-ticket items and the methods of foolery are legion, I turned to the experts.
Graham Head, managing director of ABC Carpet & Home (888 Broadway, at 19th Street; 473-3000) and a walking encylopedia on rugs, takes a no-nonsense approach: “Buy the rug that makes your heart flutter. Don’t sweat it. It’s only a bit of decorative fluff.” All old rugs, Head says, have had a bit of cosmetic surgery (after all, they’ve been stepped on for years). Buy from a retailer who’s been in business for a long time, whose rugs are ticketed, and who will take them back if, say, the red clashes with the red in your sofa.
Interior designer Mark Charbonnet, a traditionalist, often buys at Christie’s East (219 East 67th Street; 606-0400) and Sotheby’s Arcade (1334 York Avenue, at 72nd Street; 606-7000). The carpets have been vetted by the houses’ experts, and he’s managed to get some fantastic buys (the downside: there are no returns, and there are often hidden costs, such as delivery charges and the 15 percent buyer’s premium on the hammer price). Another Charbonnet favorite is the Goodarzi House of Oriental Rugs (969 Third Avenue, near 57th Street, second floor; 754-6862), purveyor of fine old Persian carpets at fair prices.
Modernist DD Allen (partner in the design firm Pierce Allen ) deals only with dealers she’s learned to trust, and her list is short. High on it (if clients can afford the tab) is Doris Leslie Blau (724 Fifth Avenue, near 56th Street, sixth floor; 586-5511). Blau has an unassailable reputation and the rarest, most exquisite rugs. Allen turns to the Mark Shilen Gallery (109 Greene Street; 925-3394) for tribal and nomadic flat weaves and for Shilen’s exhaustive knowledge. Shilen travels to India, Nepal, and Pakistan to handpick his cache, and his prices are a bright spot – lots in the $2,500-to-$5,000 range.
For kilims, it’s Marian Miller (148 East 28th Street, fourth floor; 685-7746) for her impressive stash, both old and new.
“If it’s too good to be true, it probably is,” a rug dealer once told voguish designer Victoria Hagan, and the maxim has guided Hagan’s buying since. Doris Leslie Blau tops her list, too, but she also likes the dealer antique shows (for their rather different inventory than rug galleries). Hagan suggests that if you view a rug as decorative, and you like it, and the price seems right – buy it.
Nursery Furniture
I’m having my first baby in December, and I need everything, but nursery stuff is so pricey and we’re on a budget. Where can we shop and not do major credit-card damage?
My first stop would be Albee Baby Carriage (715 Amsterdam Avenue at 95th Street; 662-8902), a sprawling kiddie emporium that’s chockablock with all the basics. Everything from infant monitors to strollers to activity quilts is stashed on shelves or piled on floors. And there’s a large supply of major-brand cribs, dressers, and changing tables. It’s noisy and chaotic, but owners Carla and Michael know exactly what parents-to-be will need. Prices are good, and Albee offers free delivery and crib setup in Manhattan.
Even if you live uptown, a trip to Schneider’s (20 Avenue A; 228-3540) is worth the fare. This Alphabet City institution offers the lowest prices in town. The display may leave much to be desired – cribs are simply lined up in the middle of the store, changing tables, high chairs, and dressers against the walls – but Schneider’s carries many major brands, and a full range of nursery needs. There’s a $10 delivery fee, and crib setup is $10.
It’s moved uptown from 20th Street, but Baby Palace (1410 Lexington Avenue, near 92nd Street; 426-4544) has maintained downtown prices. The new location is spacious, organized, and filled with mostly moderately priced cribs, changing tables, and strollers (all with safety features). A real plus: scores of fetching bumpers, sheets, and comforters for baby’s crib. Delivery and crib setup are free.
Fall Footwear
I like the ultralong skirts, butwhere can I find the right shoes towear with them?
For fall it’s ballet flats and Mary Janes and anything in fabric, as long as it’s gray (Cynthia Rowley’s Mary Janes fit both prerequisites). Fashion gurus also have a passion for go-go boots (Miu Miu has them in pale patents with square toes), and a svelter version of the Beatle boot (think Kenneth Cole, Guess, and Bruno Magli). The mod boot of the sixties has inspired Ralph Lauren, Miuccia Prada, Calvin Klein, and Manolo Blahnik to come up with refined interpretations. But monkstraps, and even man-tailored oxfords, look great with this season’s longer silhouettes.
Audio Equipment
I got the dog, but my ex got the stereo. Where can I go for a new audio system and not be made to feel like an airhead?
The experts at Innovative Audio (150 East 58th Street; 634-4444) love customers who haven’t a clue about stereo equipment. No, not because they want to take advantage of them. Such customers “trust what they hear and are not swayed by brand names or the advice of friends,” says Elliot Fishkin, who, after 25 years in Brooklyn, has opened a Manhattan outpost with five elegant listening rooms. It’s the friendliest, least forbidding of the city’s stereo shops. Tell the staff your budget (no amount is too piddling) and they’ll pick out, play, and help you decide on components to match it. Innovative is also the purveyor of equipment by well-known companies (Pioneer, Sony, B&W) and more esoteric ones (Spectral, Naim, Wilson Audio).
If you don’t know the difference between a woofer and a tweeter, Andy Singer and his staff at Sound by Singer (18 East 16th Street; 924-8600) can help. Their store is a quiet haven with ten homey listening rooms outfitted with systems for those on a limited budget and those where the sky’s the limit. In addition to carrying Elite and Pioneer, Singer has such technically advanced names as J.M. Lab, Linn, and Eggleston Works.
Little has changed in solid-state gear over the past few years, and most audio equipment doesn’t really age that much, so you might want to stop by Stereo Exchange (627 Broadway; 505-1111) where used high-end components, expertly repaired in-house, are for sale. The savings are 60 to 70 percent over what they might cost you new.
The hautest, and the haughtiest, of the audio emporiums is Lyric Hi-Fi (1221 Lexington Avenue, at 82nd Street; 439-1900). Lyric’s the place to buy the Mark Levinson or the Burmester (the stuff of audiophiles’ dreams), but it also stocks all-in-one integrated systems for under $500 that are ideal for city apartments (fewer things on the shelves), and the staff of experts can put together components for as little as $1,000. Most of their energy, however, is geared to high-high-end equipment.
Baking Equipment
My husband and I love to cook, but we’ve never tackled baking, and we’ve vowed to give it a try this fall. Where can we go for good quality cake pans and the works?
If you’re really serious about baking, go where the pâtissiers go, to J.B. Prince (36 East 31st Street; 683-3553). It’s as spotless and orderly as a medical lab and a great source for commercial-weight cookware. Cake rings short and tall, individual and oversize angel-food pans, plain and fluted tartlettes, classic and extra-deep tart molds – it’s all very French and geared to the professional. But, amateur baker that I am, I’d love to own the decorative stencils that can be used as a template for powdered sugar and cocoa, the Silpat nonstick baking mat for sheet cakes, and the plastic pastry brushes with bristles molded directly into the handle (no place for bacteria).
At Broadway Panhandler (477 Broome Street; 966-3434) commercial-weight baking pans in all sizes (including graduated pans for tier cakes), are shelved alongside the 250 kinds of shaped cake pans and the 345 kinds of cookie cutters, which are next to the thirteen kinds of rolling pins. For icing, there are spreaders, piping tools, decorative ornaments, even sprinkles and a full line of food coloring. It’s an overwhelming maze of baking and pastry equipment, but the staff is expert in rescuing the culinarily confused.
Business Cases
My attaché case has just gone to its last reward. Where’s the best place to look for a replacement?
Tops on my list would be Crouch & Fitzgerald (400 Madison Avenue, at 48th Street; 755-5888): No store in New York devotes more space to business cases, and no other store can match its range of styles, leathers, colors, and prices. Most are traditional and come in saddle or belting leathers, but recent hot sellers have been Tumi and Hartmann’s lightweight and rugged ballistic nylon cases. You can get a good case for $395, if you’re not intent on projecting an image – for that expect to pay $550. The haute-est is a Goldpfeil ($900); the poshest, an alligator attaché ($5,000).
If your checking account will allow it, stop at Seeger (400 Madison Avenue, near 48th Street; 593-7678) next door. A Crouch & Fitzgerald licensee, this German company has been manufacturing luggage since 1889, and its luxe business cases are handmade in Germany of down-soft napa-lamb skin, deeply dyed so scratches don’t show. Everything in this elegant little shop is black and sleekly understated, except the prices: at least $900, most around $2,000.
Top executives consider the Peal & Company metal box the only business case befitting their stature. It’s made in England and available exclusively at Brooks Brothers (346 Madison Avenue, at 44th Street; 682-8800). But it’s not just snob appeal (and price: $1,385) that attracts them to these cases, with their hunter-green leather lining; they have stainless-steel frames, not wooden ones, so they’re lighter than most; the leather is hand-stitched; and, I’m told, they last at least twenty years.
It’s nearly impossible to wear out a Coach (342 Madison Avenue, near 44th Street; 599-4777) business case. The leathers are so durable and the hardware indestructible. And prices are surprisingly gentle (from $400 to $795 for a bridle-leather zip-top brief). In the past the styling has been a tad uninspired, but recently it was radically updated, so now, in addition to Coach’s classics, there are voguish cases in sleek black calfskin with nickel hardware.
If price is an object, the legendary Altman Luggage Company (135 Orchard Street; 254-7275) offers deep discounts on business cases by many of the major companies. Its stock is enormous – though pretty standard and traditional – but with a 30 to 50 percent discount off list, you may not care.
Engagement Rings
Do you know any secret sources for buying a diamond engagement ring?
No, and that’s probably a good thing. Diamonds are costly, totally blind items, and since each stone is unique, it’s impossible to truly compare prices. First ask yourself how much you want to spend and what kind of diamond you’re looking for. Do you want a perfect stone or a large one? It would be wise to learn something about the four C’s of diamond buying: carat (unit of weight), cut (shape and faceting of the stone, and how well it’s proportioned), color (how white or colorless), and clarity (the number and size of the impurities). Everyone I know has gone the Tiffany or friend-of-a-friend route. With the big names you may end up paying a little more, but they’ll be honest about the diamond you’re getting and how it falls on the rating scale. And surprisingly, you can get a diamond engagement ring (modest in size but high in quality) for under $1,000 at Tiffany & Company (727 Fifth Avenue, at 57th Street; 755-8000). If you buy from a neighborhood store, in the diamond district, or through the friend connection, insist on taking the ring to an independent appraiser (Macy’s Herald Square has an excellent department, or try the International Gemological Institute) and make sure you have a written money-back guarantee. If you’ve paid $1,000 for the ring in your neighborhood store and the appraisal comes in at $1,000, that’s okay, but if you bought it from a friend of a friend (who allegedly is giving you a super deal), that $1,000 ring should be appraised for at least $2,000.
Classic Toys
I’m familiar with the catalogues, but are there still stores in New York that sell toy soldiers and electric trains? And who has the best selection of dolls?
Walk into Steve Balkin’s seriously cluttered downstairs shop and, irrationally, you find yourself wanting – needing – a regiment of toy soldiers. Burlington Antique Toys (1082 Madison Avenue, near 82nd Street; 861-9708) is such a relic of what collecting was once all about: a friendly spot where you could sit and schmooze for hours. Ostensibly, the talk is about buying toy soldiers, but philosophy, the state of the world, child-rearing, and old times are bound to creep in. Balkin is the custodian of thousands of soldiers, about half originals and half new. Among his earliest are Britains (turn-of-the-century and pre-1966 hollow-cast figures), Mignot of France, and Heyde of Germany. New favorites include the New Zealand battalions by Imperial. Balkin’s average customer? Not a dad with his kids, but a man in his fifties who has finished paying for his children’s education and can now indulge a long-suppressed passion.
Jay Facciolo and Jon Rettich’s passion is vehicles – like Corgi Lotus Elans and VW Combis – but they’ve also got a warm spot for toy soldiers. At their Classic Toys (218 Sullivan Street; 674-4434), boxes and boxes of sets are piled all over the floor, and the glass cases hold originals dating to 1893. They have the Britains, the Heydes, and the Marxes (old American figures), but Classic Toys is the place to come for plastic toy soldiers both old and new.
Awesome is the only adjective for the Red Caboose (23 West 45th Street, lower level; 575-0155). To the casual observer it feels chaotic – the phone rings incessantly, the stacks of boxes threaten to topple. But there is order to the jumble, and the inventory of model trains is mind-blowing. Owner Allan Spitz can reel off a running annotation on the locomotives, cars, cabooses, doodlebugs, Mother Hubbards, tracks, and accessories. He has all the top names (Marklin, Lionel, Athearn, Bachmann, Kato, Croat), every scale, and everything from the IRT to the Southern Pacific.
For trains to hide under the Christmas tree, Stuyvesant Trains & Hobbies (345 West 14th Street, second floor; 254-5200) is the place. Though Tony Picciuto’s store is pint-size, his stock is large and includes a sprinkling of prewar Lionels, all the current Lionel lines (Union Pacific, Illinois Central, New York Central, etc.), all the gauges, and scads of tracks and accessories. Picciuto, another in the long line of hobby-shop armchair philosophers, sees the electric train as much more than a toy: “It’s a learning tool, fostering common sense, creativity, and ingenuity.”
Dolls you know, and dolls you never even knew existed, are among the zillions at FAO Schwarz (767 Fifth Avenue, at 58th Street; 644-9400): from Baby Wiggles & Giggles to California Roller Baby to Madame Alexander’s Dionne Quintuplets to Statue of Liberty Barbie. Ed Jacobowitz of the Manhattan Dollhouse Shop (236A Third Avenue, near 19th Street; 253-9549) primarily sells dollhouses, but he’s been laying down a stock of dolls for twenty-odd years and now has the city’s second-largest collection. Among his horde are Madame Alexanders both old and new, vintage dolls in native dress, early Barbies, babies with porcelain faces, rag dolls, and the Historical Society’s limited-edition dolls. A Bear’s Place (789 Lexington Avenue, near 61st Street; 826-6465) is not limited to bears. This mom-pop-and-son store also brokers a selective assortment of primarily collectible dolls – Susan Wakeen, Gotz, and Berchet. For the city’s largest selection of TV-advertised dolls that talk, eat, and do more than wet, it’s Toys ‘R’ Us (24-32 Union Square, at 14th Street, 674-8697; and 1293 Broadway, at 33rd Street, 594-8697). There are dozens of Special Edition Barbies, but this national discount chain also has a huge inventory of baby dolls that kids can actually play with.
Cashmere
I want to invest in one great item for fall. What should it be?
At Broadway Panhandler (477 Broome Street; 966-3434) commercial-weight baking pans in all sizes (including graduated pans for tier cakes), are shelved alongside the 250 kinds of shaped cake pans and the 345 kinds of cookie cutters, which are next to the thirteen kinds of rolling pins. For icing, there are spreaders, piping tools, decorative ornaments, even sprinkles and a full line of food coloring. It’s an overwhelming maze of baking and pastry equipment, but the staff is expert in rescuing the culinarily confused.
Business Cases
My attaché case has just gone to its last reward. Where’s the best place to look for a replacement?
Tops on my list would be Crouch & Fitzgerald (400 Madison Avenue, at 48th Street; 755-5888): No store in New York devotes more space to business cases, and no other store can match its range of styles, leathers, colors, and prices. Most are traditional and come in saddle or belting leathers, but recent hot sellers have been Tumi and Hartmann’s lightweight and rugged ballistic nylon cases. You can get a good case for $395, if you’re not intent on projecting an image – for that expect to pay $550. The haute-est is a Goldpfeil ($900); the poshest, an alligator attaché ($5,000).
If your checking account will allow it, stop at Seeger (400 Madison Avenue, near 48th Street; 593-7678) next door. A Crouch & Fitzgerald licensee, this German company has been manufacturing luggage since 1889, and its luxe business cases are handmade in Germany of down-soft napa-lamb skin, deeply dyed so scratches don’t show. Everything in this elegant little shop is black and sleekly understated, except the prices: at least $900, most around $2,000.
Top executives consider the Peal & Company metal box the only business case befitting their stature. It’s made in England and available exclusively at Brooks Brothers (346 Madison Avenue, at 44th Street; 682-8800). But it’s not just snob appeal (and price: $1,385) that attracts them to these cases, with their hunter-green leather lining; they have stainless-steel frames, not wooden ones, so they’re lighter than most; the leather is hand-stitched; and, I’m told, they last at least twenty years.
It’s nearly impossible to wear out a Coach (342 Madison Avenue, near 44th Street; 599-4777) business case. The leathers are so durable and the hardware indestructible. And prices are surprisingly gentle (from $400 to $795 for a bridle-leather zip-top brief). In the past the styling has been a tad uninspired, but recently it was radically updated, so now, in addition to Coach’s classics, there are voguish cases in sleek black calfskin with nickel hardware.
If price is an object, the legendary Altman Luggage Company (135 Orchard Street; 254-7275) offers deep discounts on business cases by many of the major companies. Its stock is enormous – though pretty standard and traditional – but with a 30 to 50 percent discount off list, you may not care.
Engagement Rings
Do you know any secret sources for buying a diamond engagement ring?
No, and that’s probably a good thing. Diamonds are costly, totally blind items, and since each stone is unique, it’s impossible to truly compare prices. First ask yourself how much you want to spend and what kind of diamond you’re looking for. Do you want a perfect stone or a large one? It would be wise to learn something about the four C’s of diamond buying: carat (unit of weight), cut (shape and faceting of the stone, and how well it’s proportioned), color (how white or colorless), and clarity (the number and size of the impurities). Everyone I know has gone the Tiffany or friend-of-a-friend route. With the big names you may end up paying a little more, but they’ll be honest about the diamond you’re getting and how it falls on the rating scale. And surprisingly, you can get a diamond engagement ring (modest in size but high in quality) for under $1,000 at Tiffany & Company (727 Fifth Avenue, at 57th Street; 755-8000). If you buy from a neighborhood store, in the diamond district, or through the friend connection, insist on taking the ring to an independent appraiser (Macy’s Herald Square has an excellent department, or try the International Gemological Institute) and make sure you have a written money-back guarantee. If you’ve paid $1,000 for the ring in your neighborhood store and the appraisal comes in at $1,000, that’s okay, but if you bought it from a friend of a friend (who allegedly is giving you a super deal), that $1,000 ring should be appraised for at least $2,000.
Classic Toys
I’m familiar with the catalogues, but are there still stores in New York that sell toy soldiers and electric trains? And who has the best selection of dolls?
Walk into Steve Balkin’s seriously cluttered downstairs shop and, irrationally, you find yourself wanting – needing – a regiment of toy soldiers. Burlington Antique Toys (1082 Madison Avenue, near 82nd Street; 861-9708) is such a relic of what collecting was once all about: a friendly spot where you could sit and schmooze for hours. Ostensibly, the talk is about buying toy soldiers, but philosophy, the state of the world, child-rearing, and old times are bound to creep in. Balkin is the custodian of thousands of soldiers, about half originals and half new. Among his earliest are Britains (turn-of-the-century and pre-1966 hollow-cast figures), Mignot of France, and Heyde of Germany. New favorites include the New Zealand battalions by Imperial. Balkin’s average customer? Not a dad with his kids, but a man in his fifties who has finished paying for his children’s education and can now indulge a long-suppressed passion.
Jay Facciolo and Jon Rettich’s passion is vehicles – like Corgi Lotus Elans and VW Combis – but they’ve also got a warm spot for toy soldiers. At their Classic Toys (218 Sullivan Street; 674-4434), boxes and boxes of sets are piled all over the floor, and the glass cases hold originals dating to 1893. They have the Britains, the Heydes, and the Marxes (old American figures), but Classic Toys is the place to come for plastic toy soldiers both old and new.
Awesome is the only adjective for the Red Caboose (23 West 45th Street, lower level; 575-0155). To the casual observer it feels chaotic – the phone rings incessantly, the stacks of boxes threaten to topple. But there is order to the jumble, and the inventory of model trains is mind-blowing. Owner Allan Spitz can reel off a running annotation on the locomotives, cars, cabooses, doodlebugs, Mother Hubbards, tracks, and accessories. He has all the top names (Marklin, Lionel, Athearn, Bachmann, Kato, Croat), every scale, and everything from the IRT to the Southern Pacific.
For trains to hide under the Christmas tree, Stuyvesant Trains & Hobbies (345 West 14th Street, second floor; 254-5200) is the place. Though Tony Picciuto’s store is pint-size, his stock is large and includes a sprinkling of prewar Lionels, all the current Lionel lines (Union Pacific, Illinois Central, New York Central, etc.), all the gauges, and scads of tracks and accessories. Picciuto, another in the long line of hobby-shop armchair philosophers, sees the electric train as much more than a toy: “It’s a learning tool, fostering common sense, creativity, and ingenuity.”
Dolls you know, and dolls you never even knew existed, are among the zillions at FAO Schwarz (767 Fifth Avenue, at 58th Street; 644-9400): from Baby Wiggles & Giggles to California Roller Baby to Madame Alexander’s Dionne Quintuplets to Statue of Liberty Barbie. Ed Jacobowitz of the Manhattan Dollhouse Shop (236A Third Avenue, near 19th Street; 253-9549) primarily sells dollhouses, but he’s been laying down a stock of dolls for twenty-odd years and now has the city’s second-largest collection. Among his horde are Madame Alexanders both old and new, vintage dolls in native dress, early Barbies, babies with porcelain faces, rag dolls, and the Historical Society’s limited-edition dolls. A Bear’s Place (789 Lexington Avenue, near 61st Street; 826-6465) is not limited to bears. This mom-pop-and-son store also brokers a selective assortment of primarily collectible dolls – Susan Wakeen, Gotz, and Berchet. For the city’s largest selection of TV-advertised dolls that talk, eat, and do more than wet, it’s Toys ‘R’ Us (24-32 Union Square, at 14th Street, 674-8697; and 1293 Broadway, at 33rd Street, 594-8697). There are dozens of Special Edition Barbies, but this national discount chain also has a huge inventory of baby dolls that kids can actually play with.
Cashmere
I want to invest in one great item for fall. What should it be?
Cashmere. Whether it’s one of Rebecca Moses’s V-neck cashmere pullovers, a Helmut Lang chunky multi-ply turtleneck, a lean and T-shirt-simple TSE sweater set, or a Loro Piana shawl, the word is cashmere. As long as it’s in pales or winter white.
Crockery
I’m tired of formal, traditionalchina. We entertain casually, so I want something more original,more country.
The crockery at Ceramica (59 Thompson Street; 941-1307) says country – but Umbrian, not Litchfield. You’ll think you’ve landed in one of those teeny whitewashed pottery shops in northern Italy, it’s so filled with majolica exuberantly hand-painted in traditional century-old motifs. Earthenware – hand-painted in Portugal and France – is crammed into every inch of La Terrine (1024 Lexington Avenue, at 73rd Street; 988-3366). But the cache isn’t limited to the visible clutter of mugs, platters, pitchers, and bowls – there are complete dinner services that can be special-ordered. For the delights of Provence at your breakfast – or dinner – table, stop by Solaneé (866 Lexington Avenue, at 65th Street; 439-6109), a sunny shop filled with hand-painted crockery from the Atelier de Ségriés Moustiers, a workshop that has been turning out the loftiest faience since the seventeenth century. You’ll find early designs, as well as recent patterns based on historical roots, and stemware that’s a perfect complement – bubble glasses from Brittany. Pan-Asian is the look at Nathalie Smith’s neat little homewares shop Global Table (107-109 Sullivan Street; 431-5839): The beauty of these ceramics is in the intensity of their glazes (oxblood red, soft celadon, Mongolian brown, and graphite), and their shapes (round, square, and octagonal). Smith stocks everything – from bread plates to chargers – so it’s possible to put together complete sets here.
HalloweenCostumes
Each year we’re invited to a posh Halloween party where everyone is in glorious – or madly inventive – costumes, while we’re in any old thing we can pull together. We want to wow them. But we’re not creative. Is there a store that rents or sells great costumes?
Madly inventive – and fab – definitely describes the outfits at Frankie Steinz Costumes (24 Harrison Street; 925-1373; by appointment only). Steinz has dressed Bill Cosby for his Jell-O commercials, Billy Joel for Elton John’s 50th, and one Halloween bride in a couture-ish pumpkin gown (with a four-foot beaded stem headdress). A former accountant, Steinz realized she was happiest indulging the other side of her brain, so she’s been designing costumes for the past fourteen years. Mainly she does custom work for TV and corporations, but she stockpiles more than 1,500 costumes in her TriBeCa loft, where she welcomes browsing. Everything she does is historically correct (yet funky), and fabrics are of theatrical quality. Two of her most popular are Marie Antoinette (complete with farthingale, corset, and a hat adorned with a ship), and a picnic (which consists of a hoop covered in classic checked-tablecloth fabric and set with plates, bottled water, fruit, cheeses, bugs, and – to top it off – a green-turf hat). For kids, there are robots, mermaids, blocks, and dinosaurs, all quirkier than the commercial kind. And for this year’s Halloween? Steinz is busily working on a tornado and comedy/tragedy. Rentals come with headdress (even shoes, if they fit), and minor alterations are free. Most outfits are around $175, but there are bees, fairies, and such for $50.
Outfitting couples is what Susan Handler and Linda Carcaci of Creative Costume Company (242 West 36th Street, eighth floor; 564-5552) like to do best. For seventeen years they’ve been stitching up costumes (adult sizes only), and by now they have at least 4,000. The fabrics – brocades, velvets, laces – and the elaborate period looks of their dress-up distinguishes their work. You’ll find Cleopatra and Julius Caesar, Abraham Lincoln and a Confederate general, Scarlett O’Hara and Rhett Butler, and Dorothy and the Tin Man, as well as the more predictable devils, angels, witches, Batman, and Ninjas (but done up in finer fabrics than others around). Rental prices range from $25 up to $250 for the more elaborate creations.
The skinny in costume-land is that Zorro is hot, and Tony Bianchi, of Halloween Adventure (104 Fourth Avenue, near 11th Street; 673-4546) is prepared. He has zillions of capes, swords, masks, hats, and mustaches. He also has a 3,500-foot space jammed with a mind-boggling mix of dress-up, and he can whip up a look in seconds. His emporium is obsessively well-organized, with racks and racks of shrink-wrapped outfits arranged by type: vampires, superheroes, sexy (upstairs maids, skimpily clad witches), religious (priests and nuns), foods (M&M’s, Planter’s Peanuts, Pillsbury Doughboys, even McDonald’s French fries). Among Bianchi’s higher-end outfits – better fabrics and detailing – is a nifty E.T. Kids’ costumes (about a third of the stock) are equally freewheeling and include all the favorites: Captain Hook, Batman, princes, princesses, and assorted animals, plus licensed Walt Disney characters. Bianchi has a fine supply of body parts (ears, brains, fingers, big silly feet), headpieces galore, countless masks (celebrity, horror, you name it), and a room devoted to makeup. No rentals here, but prices are gentle: from $20 to $200 (for Gene Simmons of Kiss) to $375 (for a complete Batman).
Home Office
I’ve just started running my business out of my tiny apartment, and it’s taken over every inch of living space. Help! I need a desk, files, bookshelves, everything.
From Crate & Barrel to Ethan Allen, furniture manufacturers are turning out computer desks in every style and finish. But the latest wrinkle is computer armoires. Like entertainment centers, they have a spot for everything: The desk has a pull-out keyboard tray with a mouse platform, there’s a shelf for the printer and others for books, letter/legal file drawers, CD storage cubbies, and a surge-protected power strip. Both Bloomingdale’s (1000 Third Avenue, at 59th Street, fifth floor; 705-2000) and Macy’s Herald Square (151 West 34th Street, ninth floor; 695-4400) carry these organizational wonders in all the most popular wood finishes: Macy’s has a version that even hides a swivel chair and a fold-out side table. And, if Mission is your passion, Laytner’s (512 Broadway, near Spring Street; 965-9382) computer center is Arts & Crafts-inspired and made of solid North American oak.
Picture Frames
What with weddings, anniversaries, new babies, and such, I’m always looking for picture frames. I like to group them on tabletops, and I like to mix sizes and styles, the old and new. Where can I go for one-stop shopping?
I know about the ever-growing need for frames to show off an ever-expanding family. My solution is to drop into Framed on Madison (740 Madison Avenue, near 64th Street; 734-4680), a cluttered little shop that’s serious about frames – that’s all it sells. Antique or new, miniature or oversized, they have it. In addition to the more common materials – leather, sterling silver, and wood – you’ll find Venetian glass, crocodile, enamel, jeweled, and brass. And styles that go from ornate Victorian to minimalist modern. Although XYZ Total Home (15 East 18th Street; 388-1942) is primarily a gifty furniture store, it’s rife with frames – some simple, some fussy – for desk, tabletop, and boudoir. There’s lots of sterling silver, silver plate, and leather, along with inlaid woods – even that forties favorite, silvered glass.
Special-OccasionClothing for a Preteen
I’m desperate. My 10-year-old daughter is into trendy, but I’m more Ann Taylor. Where can we find party dresses we can agree on?
Trendy this season translates into sophisticated little numbers – funky is out, preppy is in. So, at least for this brief instant, shopping may actually be fun for the two of you. Zitomer (969 Madison Avenue, near 76th Street; 737-5560), the ritzy pharmacist, now vends kids’ dresses, and this ever-expanding pharmacy has some knockout preteen and teen fashions on its second floor. There are sweet organza party dresses (the stuff of a parent’s dreams), but plenty of chic looks to appeal to style-obsessed offspring: Nicole Miller’s little black shifts, Monkey Wear’s velvet bootleg pants and long skirts, Moschino’s fun looks, and English designer David Charles’s drop-dead suits (at drop-dead prices). Zitomer’s brings drug-store service to the business of selling kid’s clothing: If, at the last minute, the dress your 10-year-old planned to wear turns out to be too short or too tight – or she just plain hates it – no need to panic. Call Zitomer with the size, styles, and colors she likes, and it’ll deliver two or three alternatives.
A favorite hangout spot for fashion-savvy girls, Infinity (1116 Madison Avenue, at 83rd Street; 517-4232) can elicit mixed reactions from their moms: The line between trendy and tarty can sometimes blur. This season, however, the kids are into butterflies and cool fabrics, so owner Liza Ball has her dressmaker stitching up snappy little spaghetti-strap dresses with butterfly-lined mesh tops, chenille-embroidered A-lines, and lots of gray-lace shifts (this year’s black). Serious suits – like David Charles’s scaled-down versions of Mom’s – are now super-cool; also on the most-wanted list are velvet sweater sets with ankle-length skirts and stretch-taffeta boot-leg pants.
Sophisticated suits are also hot numbers at Marsha D.D. (1324 Lexington Avenue, near 88th Street; 534-8700), a pocket-size store whose owner, Marsha Drogin Dayan, is keyed into kiddie trends. Her shift, tank, and spaghetti-strap dresses with little bolero jackets are all black, of course, but slowly creeping in are some rich eggplanty and purply shades in Pandora’s burnt-out-velvet miniskirts, tank tops, and buttondown shirts.
Sophisticated, slightly preppy dress-up rules at CO2 (284 Columbus Avenue, near 74th Street; 721-4966). The clued-in come for sleekly tailored three-piece suits (jacket, skirt, or pants, and shell) in stretchy Ultrasuede, slip dresses with little cover-ups, chenille skirts, sweater sets with fluffy faux-fur collars, and anything animal-print.
Chantal William and her brother Guy broker classic yet chic European kids’ threads in their namesake store, G.C. William (1137 Madison Avenue, near 84th Street; 396-3400). A spaghetti-strap crêpe-chiffon dress comes with a matching bolero; a crisscross A-line has a sparkly beaded bodice; a little velvet number has an illusion top. There are lots of forgiving A-lines (great at hiding figure faults), long skinny skirts with blazers or cropped tops, and color (brown, aubergine, and navy) as well as the ubiquitous black.