i've died and gone to dayton's

the name has changed three times in the last several years but it will always be daytons to me. thirty years ago when i was new to minnesota i had heard about this department store temple, mecca, icon...i had no money back then and my college debt was mounting, but i could share a cup of wild rice soup with a girlfriend in the skyroom. it came with a free popover, cold ice water in thick glass goblets and service that made us both feel fabulously wealthy. all for under ten bucks.

in my early 30's my best friend, frank and i would go to daytons and breathe the perfume, play with cosmetics and browse the sale racks. we would usually end up in the men's department where my darling frank would buy smoothe new packages of white polo briefs (easier than doing laundry). we would look at the jewelry and choose a new scent for him so he would smell good for his new boyfriend. and on our way out, even though i was still strapped for cash, he would pull me to the clinique counter and insist i purchase something because it was give-away-time.

and then we would walk down the center aisle, flanked by lancome and estee and chanel and we would feel so rich under those magnificent fairy tale chandeliers. his boots and my flipflops slapping on the white marble, with beautiful people in pastel smocks behind glittering counters smiling at us; have a great day!

frank and i thought we should design a logo that said

i've died and gone to dayton's

dayton's!



no one did christmas like dayton's. decades ago, the window displays were temporarily given over to puppets and holiday scenes. shiny dollmaker elves tapping a smile onto a doll in one motion, and placing it in a box the next. mrs santa taking cookies out of the oven, then winking and putting them back in. fluffy snow and tiny brass bands -- a wonderland of windows at 8th and nicollet.



i bought my first pair of contacts at dayton's. and pair of faux snake pumps when i could wear that kind of thing. a pink silk suit for a keynote presentation in front of an international audience; and the best little black dress that ever was.



it was a thick jersery material, off the shoulder with a belt and circle skirt -- i looked at it and looked at it and looked at it and it was finally 40% off and in my closet shortly thereafter. we went to the theater together, that dress and i, and out to dinner, and to weddings, and it was that kind of dress that fit me no matter what and looked almighty every time.



it was a sleepy at dayton's today, when i stopped in to pick up a few things for vacation. i wandered all over the 4th floor (lingerie, women/children's apparel, better dresses, bridal salon, beauty shop), choosing items here and there. as i packed up my things in the third or eight dressing room i noticed something was missing.



my purse.



the sales associates who caught me as i blasted from the fitting room went into immediate action.

where were you? which department? did you use any other fitting rooms? let the other sales associates on 4 know that a purse is down! for the love of god, call security!

and most importantly

OMG it was a COACH - we have to find it!

we found it. a very nice woman in one of the fitting rooms picked it up and told me she was going to bring it out to the desk after she finished trying on this one blouse, but she heard me so "OH SHIT". she peeked out the door and said "lose your purse?"

i was so relieved, i thanked her profusely and told her that color looked great on her (which it did).

walking out of daytons up the center aisle i smelled citrus and musk, lilacs and roses, clean linen and pineapple. i had my purse, i had some new shorts and a new bra.

but i can't remember what ever happened with the little black dress.

the devil is in the details

i have long envied those people you see sitting at coffee shops in the middle of the day. they sit there with iced lattes and italian sodas and chat or read or facebook or write or just sit. how can those people be so lucky to be sitting at an outdoor cafe on a gorgeous august day in shorts and straw hats? don't they work? maybe this is their day off or maybe they are on vacation or unemployed or rich.

i was one of those people today. after several weeks of thinking i would be one of them sooner, i finally felt well enough to take my place at the neighborhood coffee shack, order up a tall cold one with lots of ice and put my feet up in the shade. ah, this is living!

there were plenty of tables next to mine but the two friends who were there to catch up with each other chose the one right next to mine, and it was RIGHT next to mine. there was plenty of room for me to slide my table over or for them to, but i did not want to appear rude so kept on sipping and faking a good read.

they were in there early 4o's and a bit hippie-ish, maybe i felt that way because i spent 4 hours watching woodstock this weekend, but he did have a very long ponytail and she, a mass of long curls. they wore simple t-shirts and shorts and rugged sandals and her toenails were too long and painted mauve. he sipped a hot beverage and nibbled on cheesecake, she had a root beer and they both smoked marlboro lights.

being a sometimes smoker myself, i would not have expected to be annoyed by their puffs but i was. it wasn't just the cigarettes, she was loud and i mean loud and did i say loud. they talked about being unemployed and possible job opportunities, they shared bar gossip and then he talked about the new book he was starting to write. evidently it will start in a coffee shop. there didn't seem to be much to the plot but she was oo-ing and wow-ing over every phrase, leaning and and telling him how proud she was of him.

they each had cell phones and who doesn't these days, and i wondered if cell phones are partly responsible for people being so public about all of their their conversations. voices are louder and bigger than they used to be. it feels intrusive to me, and a little bit rude. no more quiet tones and private sharing, just lamplified sentences colliding over coffee.

there was a woman in the grocery store yesterday who stood within an arms reach of the spice aisle with her cart and she was having a long conversation with someone about this and that who would be at the party and did she really say that? she was standing solidly and did not react to an excuse me as i tried to get in front of her in search of a good rib rub. spice i mean, i was not interesed in rubbing her ribs although i suppose we were close enough.

last week it was a jewish man with long grey curls cascading from his yamaka, standing so close to the dvd's at half-price books i could not see the middle of the alphabet. excuse me...no reaction. pardon me...nope. he talked about who was picking up which kids and how did that all turn out and what time whatever whatever.

i'm an observer. it is what i love and what i do best and i am still trying to figure out how to make money at it. i remember useless but sometimes interesting details -- and even so, it annoys me that i can't just ignore these people and their details and go back to my browsing or reading.

in the meantime, human beings are so much more intimiate with conversations they have in public with people they cannot see than they are involved in what is happening in their own space in each moment. what is it about being able to connect with anyone any time that washes away any self consciousness we used to feel when we called people from a phone booth? a booth! a whole tiny private room!

but here we are chatting up everything from the mundane to the most serious comparisons of the human condition, and we do it on the lightrail, or on the sidewalk, or at gate 35 on the green concourse or in the spice aisle. privacy does not seem to matter, and with that, good manners sometimes disappear, too.

oh well, like i said

this is living.

it's a johnny bravo world

you remember that episode, don't you? greg brady thinks he is getting his big break and will be a hip rock star. they give him this groovy pantsuit - elvis inspired - lots of sparklies and he thinks he is the coolest cat ever! all that talent wrapped up in polyester and sequins...what a dream come true. but after his recording session he is so confused -- "hey that doesn't sound like me at all!"

well of course kid. we don't really care how good you can sing, cuz we can make it sound however we like. point is, you fit the suit.

my new friend and i were talking on the phone the other afternoon, she 5 weeks further into her recovery than mine, so each of us trying not to laugh but making each other laugh anyway, and bonnie pointed out that people seem to get famous for no apparent reason these days -- case in point, paris hilton or the kardashians. the suit fits and it looks great on camera so AFTER that, they figure out how to move around in that suit and how to talk and what to say and how will it play on camera. in some cases it does not matter who you are or what you have to say in the first place - if the suit fits everything can be changed around to satisfy the designer.

lately i have been obsessed with the beales of grey gardens. i missed the hbo movie but got my hands on the orginial documentary, thinking it would be interesting to see how those two crazy broads justified what seemed like outrageous behavior to the rest of the world.

oh my, was i surprised.

we all are characters of one sort or another, but some of us are much better at it than others.

nothing was really crazy at grey gardens, in fact it was refreshing and touching to see two women who were so unashamedly authentic. big edith sits sunning herself naked but for a towel in one scene and later sings old songs in a strong voice from her bed. little edith wears turbans with brooches and marches to a dance number in the hall. she chose her outfits with such care and orginality that she inspired a layout in Vogue magazine. several cats and piles of piles might not be something most of us would call "homey" but these two women were as real and true to themselves and to the world than anyone who creates a persona only after finding out what it should be used for.

it is a good and valuable lesson.

edith says it much better than i....see what you think, and thanks ladies!


http://http//www.youtube.com/watch?v=vWEeJbuF3bM