Thursday, May 31, 2012

Remedy for a Wide Tie

I had a tie that was too wide.  If memory serves, it was donated to a charity event, and I was the highest bidder at the silent auction.  Sadly, my winning bid was in the neighborhood of $10.

 For comparison, I put a slightly thinner tie over it, and then a much thinner knit tie over that.  It's not quite I-95-wide, but it is at the very edge of looking alright.  See below (with the creases still visible from the box in which it came).

After one week and $12, the seamstress brought it under control, lightly steam-pressed it into shape, and it released it to me.

Before at left.  Post-trimming and reforming on the right.

 It was an easy fix (for her), and now it looks a bit better.  It's not a favorite by any stretch, but it's certainly better now.

Before and after.

Don't throw in the towel on a too-wide tie if you like the pattern and weight.  If you can't find a seamstress around you to reform it, send it up here and I'll drop it off for you.

Monday, May 21, 2012

The Old Houses

The Old Houses

If you frequent, visit, inhabit, stand to inherit, or intend to acquire one of the old houses in America, you should probably plan to have your expectations shaken a bit.  Like many areas in this realm, mythology seems to prevail and the general mischaracterizations are from books and magazines, but mostly, television and Hollywood.

When I say “old houses”, I refer to those inhabited by the same family or families for several generations (at least three in most cases), or by purchasers or heirs who are aesthetically inclined to leave things well enough alone that don’t need changing.  They are likely actually old (pre-Depression) and are normally in rural or now-suburban areas.

I am also not speaking of the showy palace-like houses of Newport, which occupy a different type category all together.  The old houses I refer to are those located in New England, New York, the mid-Atlantic/Pennsylvania, and the Mason-Dixon/Upland South (Maryland, Virginia, North Carolina), throughout Ohio, and around the older summer retreats in Michigan.

The Image

We like to think that these old houses are lavish mansions on the interior, with tail-coated English butlers and frill-aproned maids all speaking with submissive attention to the inhabitants.  We picture expensive bed linens and plush towels, antique leather sofas, gleaming sterling silver, sparkling crystal, and English/German/Dutch trade porcelain.  We assume that meals are exotic and gourmet, and that people dress like they are starring in second-rate PBS soap operas.  Ralph Lauren and Tommy Hilfiger would like us to believe that models inhabit each house and its accompanying expansive lawn, and are constantly in a state of lounging in one form or another.

While there are some houses that resemble this fairy tale, the majority can often be a let-down to first-time visitors.

The Reality

The settings of such houses are often far removed from easy accessibility, and are rarely anything approaching convenient.  Simple market demands have forced many of the old houses into horrifyingly high taxation brackets, and those near prosperous towns have rotted, been razed, rebuilt, or crudely subdivided into poorly maintained apartments.

Many great houses were built in areas which were once prosperous and picturesque, but have now become depressed and decaying communities, making the house itself even more of an island removed.  The effects of this mean that among other things, the food and its preparation begin to suffer.  When the house is passed down to Babyboomers, inappropriate modernization or liquidation often occurs, and the once grand parties disappear in favor of casual cook-outs and semi-involved birthday parties for grandchildren.

Inside the houses, guests are often taken aback by the plainness of things like the dishes or the linens, and the simplicity of the meals.  Where house staff were once dressed in uniforms, any staff that remains for the present generations are generally from the town, are not required to wear a uniform (nor would they if required), and often consist of only a single person either full-time or part-time.  If the house has very regular guests (year-round), the sheets and towels will be about a decade old.  If it is a summer residence in a colony with low-turnover, infrequent guests will often mean linens from the 70’s or 80’s, with odd or plain patterns that no catalog would ever feature.  Dishes can be from almost any decade, including the indestructible drinking vessels from the 70’s, which have outlasted all other glassware from parties involving falls onto slate floored decks.  Beige pushbutton telephones from the 80’s are still ubiquitous and a few still have only the last four digits of the number listed on the front.  Near these phones are jars or trays of pens contain specimens from the Carter Administration.

Guestrooms often still contain thin bedspreads atop a blanket or two (electric blankets in the northeast) and inexpensive sheeting are normal.  The fluffy and modern duvets are still infrequent in all but the master bedrooms, and only occasionally have rooms been modernized at all.  Many rooms still have lamps or alarm clocks from the 50’s, and the very old toasters (chrome finish with vertical toasting) have outlasted the people who purchased them.  Furniture in immediate need of reupholstering is not uncommon, and many families often opt to eat in the kitchen instead of the dining room (since they are preparing and serving their own meals).  Dishwashers are even appearing in some of the last hold-outs because Babyboomers are often unwilling to require their offspring to perform any household chores (a trait of worthlessness that is being passed down to the next generation too).

Houses with tennis courts or pools have fallen into decay at a surprising rate, and several which were active even in the 90’s have begun to crumble and calcify.  Fountains are being resurrected only occasionally, and a stroll around the grounds will reveal over-grown bowers and once-idyllic sitting areas designed for isolated contemplation, painting, or reading.  Even stone boundaries have been overgrown by trees, reducing expanses of lawns to closed-in areas of reduced acreage.  Tall trees now obscure many of the once-impressive views, as 100+ year old trunks have tripled in size, and the dining room’s vista is obscured by wilderness, which is good or bad, depending on one’s school of thought.
As the old houses are passed down to subsequent generations, the staff diminish, due partly to the inhabitants’ willingness to perform cooking and housekeeping themselves.  Many of the subsequent generations are unwilling or unable to afford the level of employment their forbearers did, and feel either ashamed or uncomfortable having others live with them as part of the bargain, sadly allowing misplaced guilt to supersede the much-needed employment potential for local families.  Since people are performing much of the work for themselves, they occupy the rooms and systems designed for those who originally did the work.

The walls are usually unchanged in their art, and the references to exclusive colleges are still prominent, even though the latest generation was unable to convince the admissions board that he/she was worthy, as one’s family name is now held against college applicants instead of favoring.

Barns and outbuildings rot beyond the point of rescue, and electric space-heaters make up for the neglected fireplaces in winter, even though the heaters look and smell odd atop once beautiful rugs.  In many of the old houses, modern gadgets and devices are working their way into everyday life.  An aesthetically incongruous white cordless phone may sit on a marble counter-top, and white device-recharging wires are plugged into outlets throughout, sticking out like sore thumbs.

In one ghastly indicator of ill-adaptation, my wife and I were invited to a large country house for a long weekend several years back.  As the weekend approached, the host (the sole heir to the property and estate) indicated that the food and housekeeping was expensive, and inquired whether we would be willing to assist in the cost.  “I hadn’t realized that you were running a business” I told him on the phone.  “It’s just that I’ll have to keep [housekeeper] on for the weekend” he told me.  A uniquely cheap bastard.  We didn’t go.

To dispel a final lingering rumor, the coffee, tea, and alcohol served in old inherited houses tends to be unimpressively economical and plain (not that I mind at all), and liquor cabinets usually have plastic jugs of booze (think Gordons and not Hendricks) instead of the premium (Yuppie) brands.

I don’t want to portray these grand old houses as unpleasant, but their charm is often in places and aspects that visitors don’t anticipate, and is rarely in the form that popular images would have one believe.  Many (more than is palatable) will also be out-of-family (sold) soon, as the over-indulgence of the current generation begins it's retirement years sell-off, undaunted by generations of strict tradition, possibly resentful, and ultimately frustrated when they realize that they were provided this expanse of real estate through die-hard principles such as thrift and resourcefulness.  They will begin bickering with one another, suing siblings and relatives when they realize that their parents had afforded the impressive house with its staff not by being billionaires, but by not spending their money elsewhere.  I anticipate that the market will see many more of these houses up for sale in the next 10-15 years, and perhaps a few of those who purchase them will be inclined to leave them slightly rustic, cleverly impractical, and entirely charming,

Wednesday, May 16, 2012

Urban Practicality: Reader Submissions - Booze Guards

I'm back on the West Coast dodging cable cars after a trip to the South.  Because I'm still working on a few posts, I'll be lazy and offer up this nice series of photos from a reader.  They are just my speed.

In his words:

"I came across a couple of bottles that I thought would great for transporting adult beverages to tailgating and picnics. I wanted to keep them from clanging around in the bag so I was looking for a buffer that could also provide a little grip and style.

The stitching isn't perfect, but the leather and waxed line makes a nice solution and a little more elegant appearance."

Well done, Sir.

Monday, May 7, 2012

Looking Down at the World

For some reason, photographers and designers seem to like this pose.
"Being pretty makes me feel so shy!  Gosh your camera makes me both giggly AND bashful."


"Alright ladies, we're doing the new spring line shots now.  What?  No, we don't have any bathrooms, why?  Can't it wait?  Well, I'm sorry, but you'll just have to hold it."


Children must only look up at the world... y'know, all hopeful and optimistic-like.  

Hey, Kid... get with the program.  Only the adult models get to look down.


Brooks Brothers Catalog: This guy is a sailor?  Why is he holding the mainsheet right off the boom (I'm guessing)?

Landfall Outfitters 2012 Catalog.  These guys are sailors.  Notice the zinc-oxide smeared across the middle guy's face.  No hair-dressers on set here.


Lastly, this gal should ditch this dork.  Not wearing socks to his own wedding? 

Wednesday, May 2, 2012

Here and There, and The Races

The woman one row up (had long ago) decided that the world is her living room, but in the bad way.
Disgusting self indulgence and I hope that she never travels internationally.  The proper (much older) Boston lady seated next to her was horrified, and the entire flight to the West Coast was treated to this reminder of irreversible cultural decay.


 This should have been good.  It had all the indicators of an acceptable drink.  I must have overlooked the word "spices", and I soon regretted the acquisition.

Every spring, we buy a few of these for the weekend fry.  The price is like the flavor: big and rich.

A camel hair jacket with intentionally (somewhat) contrasting buttons.

I first bought this Whiskey (not Whisky) at the Duty-Free in Dublin on my way to visit Plum over in Berlin.  Mrs. and I had never heard of it, but it quickly became a favorite.  It soon began appearing in Liquor stores in the US, and it's price is unfortunately climbing quickly.

Speaking of horses and dressing well, if you find yourself in Boston this Saturday, a good friend is hosting a fundraiser to benefit the Mounted Police and SeaPony Farm. I have not examined the causes in extensive detail, but I can assure all that the PARTY will be great.  One major plus: it's an afternoon of Kentucky Derby festivities that will end before dinner.