When I got out of my car there was a shaggy blonde headed guy with a squirt gun hiding behind a trash can apparently waiting for someone to come out the front door. We gave each other a nod as I scooted past in silence. Once inside I could see that there was no one anywhere near the door and for all I know that guy is still there waiting.
There was a man behind the counter going through some papers who greeted me and said I should give a shout if I need help with anything. I didn’t. He seemed fine with that.
The rafters house the requisite vintage boards along with faded wetsuits and the walls are covered with old posters and scribbled papers. Regular surf shop stuff. But ET also has a South Coast section that sets it apart from the others.
The South Bay is LA, not OC, and ET has a whole section for that.
I am neither one of those places so I didn’t buy anything.
What does one wear to a polo match? I assume this is everyone’s question, as it was mine, when faced with the possibility of attending an actual polo match. Not water polo, not a Polo outlet store, but actual polo. With horses.
The answer, as to what to wear, is a solid, “whatever you want.” Which is somehow disappointing considering my only real relationship to the game is a shirt.
If you want to learn about, or understand the game of polo, you will get more from Google than you will from attending. I say this because when I went to the game there were no bleachers, no signs, and the only people I saw were doing other things (playing soccer, jogging, talking about kombucha). It wasn’t till a person on horse game trotting out from the trees onto the field that the soccer players started packing up and I figured I was in the right spot.
The game itself is fun enough. There are fast breaks where someone whacks the ball down the field and a couple riders gallop full speed in chase, but for the most part the game is played at medium speed as horses don’t stop on a dime and sometimes they get all clumped together. It didn’t look like ramming, or any sort of equine body checking is supposed to be a thing. They do their actual thing for 6 periods of play and each period of play lasts 7 minutes and 30 seconds. I have no idea why they get those 30 seconds. a period of play is called a chukker.
Google tells me the word chukker is derived from a Hindi word meaning “circle” or “turn”. As far as I could tell most of the players in the game I watched were derived from Argentina. I came to this conclusion by moving over to the other side of the field, the one with a bunch of trees obscuring a view of horse trailers and support staff, where people were wearing Argentina themed sweatshirts, speaking Spanish. I also heard the announcer repeatedly saying, “and (players name here), hailing from Argentina…” over the loudspeaker. I appreciate the fact that they had a loudspeaker and announcer, despite having no spectators.
That isn’t entirely true. I was there. Maybe ten or twenty others stopped to watch, and on that trailer sideline people who looked like they owned the trucks pulling the horse trailers were all drinking white wine. What I mean when I say they looked like they owned the trucks, I mean they knew the names of the people brushing the horses but were caring for the dogs rather than the ponies.
No one bothered me, or appeared bothered by me, which is fine. I didn’t ask anyone to explain anything, or ask them anything other than if it was okay for me to stand over by the fence. A guy who had a tiny little dog inside his coat chukkled and said, “It is for anyone. Go on ahead.”
In the end I experienced it in much the same way I experience a Polo Outlet store: I couldn’t really afford anything I saw but didn’t mind looking.
I first learned of BDDW through a friend of mine in Philly. That was more than a decade ago and it was instantly evident then, and is true now, that they simply make cool stuff.
I chose the words “cool” and “stuff” carefully.
To say BDDW is a furniture design shop would overlook the house bottled liquor. To say it is an art gallery would forget the hand crafted turntables. At BDDW they hand paint puzzles and then hang them on the wall.
I’ll describe it in a way that would offend anyone who loves the place, but makes BDDW easier to understand for anyone unfamiliar: Imagine Wal Mart… no Target, except instead of carrying a whole world of brands and designers, you have this huge variety of stuff, all from one brand, one designer, and none of it sucks.
Or… Tyler has done something similar to Ralph Lauren, minus the clothes (for now). In other words, Like Ralph, Tyler has imagined, and then created, an entire world. Tyler’s world is just a bit heftier. A touch more Carhart and a little less limousine.
I’m a big fan of the grandfather clock that appears to be a tall, simple, squared-off column of hard wood with a row of round light bulbs near the top containing filaments shaped like numbers to display the time. Or a leather overlaid turntable built into a wood slab coffee table. Like I said before, cool stuff.
Lubna is a career diplomat who, after postings in places like Afghanistan, Mogadishu, and Iraq was rewarded with three years as the expert of something or another in Paris. There she would make important policy recommendations, throw parties, and host important visitors, like us.
Set up in the Saint Germain des Pres neighborhood of the 7th arrondissement Lubna is close enough to carry home armloads of fancy fare from le Bon Marche as well as walk to any of the smartest lost generation locations of the Left Bank. Hemmingway, Baldwin, Josephine Baker, Lubna, all the sort of consequential Americans most appreciated for what they do or did elsewhere.
After a full day of travelling I was unsure if the armpit smell in the Uber was coming from me or the car and our driver kept shouting out to friends on the sidewalk while we waited in traffic. It feels very much like a setup where we will eventually turn a corner into a dead end street and these pedestrians will reappear to be disappointed when we hand over all of our valuables. Nothing we have is valuable, not even our ATM card. I might find it amusing to be held for ransom and watch as our captors discover than not only are all our friends and family broke, but they also have bad credit.
The French are famous for their impatience with those who do not speak the language and their love of punishing the unaware with delicacies like snails and pate’. Yet even those who are fluent are still limited to refined tastes, like souffle’ or bourguignon, or the simple lack of any spice or flavor beyond sugar and butter. Though they are expert in those.
The focus of any Paris café is sitting. The patrons display an exemplary attention span appearing content to be ignored for hours by a staff who cannot summon any attention for them at all. I love it. A living wage instead of subsistence tipping means that when we showed up at a spot the second night in a row having only ordered a small dessert the night before, they were still happy to see us. They did however, stick us with that trick where they ask you if you want or still or sparkling water, then bring you an expensive glass bottle when you pick still. We later learned that a pitcher of still tap water is perfectly acceptable, normal, and free.
Some of the best works at any art museum are the patrons, unless it is the Louvre. The Louvre is comparable to a Broadway matinee in that it mostly attended by middle school field trips or anyone else who does not particularly appreciate art but has for some reason been herded, or hoarded, into a space filled with stuff they find uninteresting. There were crowds taking selfies in front of the Mona Lisa but no one paying any attention to the works of Michelangelo.
Rodin has his own museum, as well as representation at the Muse d’Orsay, though there, I found a polar bear sculpted by a Rodin contemporary much more pleasing. It was the smoothest, most aerodynamic modern looking bear I have ever seen and it helped me realize that while Rodin had skill and fame, he lacked style. I am not convinced any of the Parisian artists of that day lacked syphilis.
The banks of the Seine are lined with vendors selling romanticized relics and reproductions of an imagined past. But up on the north side of town is a long stretch of booths filled with discounted artifacts of today. Nike dupes, Prada purses, and pewter Rolexes. It was up there that a vendor, upon discovering we did not speak French, laughed and chided that he spoke French, English, his native Nigerian dialect and a little bit of Chinese, but here we were out vacationing while only speaking one language- the wrong one. He wasn’t wrong, so I bought a knock off North Face bucket hat.
There are plenty of things to see and do in Paris, but the best part, is just being there. Its not about going into the Louvre, or climbing the tower, but rather it is just that they are there. They are ambiance. It is a place that feels like somewhere. Somewhere to sit. To chat. To sip. To be.
It isn’t located right on the beach, or a main strip. Its set back in a sort of office park, which isn’t the worst since that means parking is plentiful.
The lobby in the front is a small art gallery, the open garage doors in the back expose a coffee shop. In between is a curated collection of surfboards, ceramics, and clothes.
It was airy, open, and cool. All the definitions of cool.
The kid at the surf shop desk was casually discussing the swell report and how it would be affecting San O’ this weekend and the baristas at the back all had the look of people who read, and enjoy, books.
There isn’t any big-box brand clothing on their small selection of racks. There are no Wavestorms. The ceramics look home, or artisan, made. In a good way.
Visvim was founded by Hiroki Nakamura, a former designer for Burton.
The brand has several locations in Japan and is primarily carried by other stockists in the States.
They produce design forward clothing mixing together traditional Japanese, streetstyle, and Americana aesthetics.
It is artist designed, craftsman made, expensive, and cool.
But…
I asked the person working there if she knew anything about the lining of this Kiyari Jacket.
She replied that it is an original work by the designer.
I asked if she knew anything about the events depicted in the art and she replied that she believes it is historically inspired but wasn’t sure.
Now I’m a little uncomfortable.
The most common source of this sort of art were Native American prisoners of war in the 1870s. With access to paper, via things like ledger books, and time, many of these captives recorded historical events, battles and individual exploits. The drawings were perhaps a little more storytelling than artwork, which adds an extra level to my disappointment that the salesperson didn’t know the story.
It made me wonder if the designer knows the stories.
Appropriation isn’t really a difficult thing to suss out in a strictly American context, with our well established exploitative power dynamics and history, but it becomes a bit more complex when the person doing a “thing” that isn’t their own, isn’t American and doesn’t carry the same baggage.
So I have questions more than I have conclusions or statements.
Sid Mashburn the brand started as Sid Mashburn the shop, in Atlanta.
While that may be true of the brand name as a business, perhaps it helps one understand the sort of look Sid Mashburn creates if the CV of Sid Mashburn the man is explained.
Mashburn has been a designer for J. Crew, then a designer for Polo, then Tommy Hilfiger, and then on to Land’s End. He has been at, which I would say then makes him, the “who’s who” of preppy or trad menswear.
My experience in person is that those who work the shop in Atlanta are welcoming and inviting to both visitors and customers. I was just a visitor but would love to be the other.
White walls and floor allow the articles of clothing on the rack, and maybe a painting or two, to stand out.
It’s a risky play since it is so easy to come of as the final day of a closeout sale and if all you have to focus on is the clothes, they better be good.
The clothes are a riff on classic country club athleisure and a touch of 1950 Americana.
The first time I visited I convinced them to sell me one of the stickball sticks they had in the corner. I was amused that next to a stack of white sweatshirts with crossed tennis racket logos, were the tools of back alley athletics.
And that is what they do there. Country Club attire with back alley sensibility.
Brohammas 