Kudos and special thanks to Brooklyn (formerly Newton) Rachel for alerting her dad Don, and through him all of us, to a great story in the NYT on Emma Zack, daughter of Carl, the head of Owl Chatter’s Bad Pun Department (is there any other kind?). It’s by Anna Grace Lee and is dated 5/31. It raves about Emma’s very successful vintage clothing business for zaftig women, otherwise known as women who wear “plus size” outfits. Here’s a link to the story: https://www.nytimes.com/2023/05/31/style/berriez-vintage-plus-size.html.
The store and online business is called Berriez. It’s a very personal approach to clothes-buying. Emma sets up appointments to meet with women personally to assess their needs and wants. It’s also a traditional store and online biz.
“When I walked in, because it’s my first time, I was like, ‘I could cry,’” said Susie Mensah, a model in town from Toronto. “I’m like a size 4X. It’s really rare that I get to find articles of clothing that express who I am and also give me the space to explore and have fun with who I am.”
This past fall, Emma put on the store’s first runway show during New York Fashion Week.
Berriez is full of a rainbow assortment of clothing, art and accessories. The racks contain garter T-shirts, patchwork pieces, squiggly neon Popsicle-colored crochet dresses, shirts with simulated nipple rings, and patterned button-downs from the 1980s and ’90s. Emma convinced one customer to buy a metallic chain bra. “Knock on wood, I’ve never had someone come by and leave empty-handed,” she said. “So I think that’s pretty telling.” [Note to Emma: A “kinahora” is better than “knock on wood.” It protects you from the Evil Eye. Consider it Jewish insurance.]
Here’s Susie Mensah, the happy shopper, and then Emma herself, brilliantly attired (voo den?).
As a service to Owl Chatter readers, we sent crack OC photographer Phil out to conduct exhaustive research on metallic chain bras, which we were not familiar with before reading the Emma story — a yawning gap in our undergarment awareness. Here are two examples he came back with after, for once, not complaining about an assignment. Thanks, Philly!
The clue at 7D was “It’s an uphill climb from here,” and the answer ran up (or down) the entire central length of the grid: EVEREST BASE CAMP. Its top five letters (EVERE) were right next to PERIL (“Jeopardy”). Pretty clever! And the ASS you can haul up the mountain is right there at 57A, the clue for which was “Doofus.”
Another pair of Dowd words: First, sialoquent. A great one. It means tending to spray saliva when speaking. “If you have a meeting with Cohen, try to stand back — he’s sialoquent like a geyser.”
Next, anagnorisis. This is the moment in a play, novel, or whatever, in which the protagonist comes to a key recognition about himself, or something or someone else. In my “Story of Aram” from a few days ago, the anagnorisis came when I saw Aram do his happy dance towards the end. Another example — “OMG, FBI Agent Crabnick has been working with the kidnappers all along! He’s corrupt!”
The rock band Cream, comprised of Eric Clapton, Ginger Baker, and Jack Bruce, came to perform at Brandeis (over 50 years ago), and I had a front row seat thanks to our friend Barton, who was on some committee. The concert gained some renown (infamy?) because the band was delayed for six hours or so. Instead of starting at 8pm (I think), it started after 2 am. Yet almost the entire audience waited. I guess that’s a sign of how stoned we all were. (Is time passing?) I think I may have gone back to my dorm for a while and then returned.
The front row seat was more of a curse than a blessing. The sound was so loud that even with keeping my fingers in my ears a lot, my ears were ringing for close to a week. (It led to the following common refrain: My ears are ringing. So answer them.)
I mention Cream because of the recent death of Pete Brown, at 84, the British poet who wrote the lyrics to many of their songs, including “White Room,” “I Feel Free” and “Sunshine of Your Love.” “Sunshine” reached #5 on the charts, and “White Room” made it up to #6. Some of you may recall these stark lyrics Brown wrote for “White Room.”
In the white room with black curtains near the station
Black roof country, no gold pavements, tired starlings
Silver horses ran down moonbeams in your dark eyes
Dawn light smiles on you leaving, my contentment
I’ll wait in this place where the sun never shines
Wait in this place where the shadows run from themselves
Brown was Jewish — his dad was Nathan Leibowitz at birth, and his mom was Kitty Cohen. They sold shoes.
In 1965, Brown and more than a dozen other poets, including Allen Ginsberg, Lawrence Ferlinghetti, Gregory Corso, Michael Horovitz and Andrei Voznesensky, read their work at the International Poetry Incarnation, which filled Royal Albert Hall in London. After Cream broke up, Brown collaborated with Jack Bruce for close to 50 years and wrote for other bands as well. Here they are (Brown on the right, Jack Bruce on the left):
Pete Brown is survived by his wife, Sheridan MacDonald; his daughter, Jessica Walker; his son, Tad MacDonald; and a grandson, all of whom were thankful to have felt the sunshine of his love.
See you tomorrow, everybody.
The Wellington Files 