Vineyard Vines is generally overpriced for my tastes, as I prefer the strategy of waiting it out until clearance opportunities arise. Like a good Yankee, I'm selectively allergic to expenditure. In over a decade of near-constant business travel, I have never forgotten to pack anything, save the time in 2006 when I forgot cuff links. On Sunday evening, after the usual painful goodbyes to the lovelies in my household, it was somewhere in the airport security line when I remembered that I had not packed any socks.
On the other side of the x-ray-nudie-peeping-Tom scanner, a Vineyard Vines shop was about to close. I bought the last five pairs of socks they had. They were offered at a fraction of what I thought they would have been, and because they were solid black, not even the cutesy little whale on them had made them appealing enough to go for full retail. The market forces were in my favor as they lessened the penalty for my absent-minded ness.
A week in San Francisco with conservative and business-safe black socks.
A woman sat at the table next to me with her friend and droned on about her recent trip to Paris. I will spare you the details, the inescapable volume of it forced me to learn more than I cared to know about her 10 days there. From what I could gather, she spent her entire time using her iPhone to plot jogging routes throughout the various districts of Paris, and described each in excruciating detail. Instead of casually strolling in and out of cafe after cafe, sitting and reading, eating and drinking, this vapida spent her vacation there in Lycra and headphones following some route on her phone, and ignoring the worlds greatest restaurants, eschewing conversations with locals, refusing to smoke, abstaining from heavy cream/butter/salt, neglecting the worlds finest wines offered for a pittance, and disregarding the endless art, beautiful clothing, or one of the thousands of parties. I learned all of this in the time it took me to ask for my check and leave.
On the other side of the x-ray-nudie-peeping-Tom scanner, a Vineyard Vines shop was about to close. I bought the last five pairs of socks they had. They were offered at a fraction of what I thought they would have been, and because they were solid black, not even the cutesy little whale on them had made them appealing enough to go for full retail. The market forces were in my favor as they lessened the penalty for my absent-minded ness.
A week in San Francisco with conservative and business-safe black socks.
A woman sat at the table next to me with her friend and droned on about her recent trip to Paris. I will spare you the details, the inescapable volume of it forced me to learn more than I cared to know about her 10 days there. From what I could gather, she spent her entire time using her iPhone to plot jogging routes throughout the various districts of Paris, and described each in excruciating detail. Instead of casually strolling in and out of cafe after cafe, sitting and reading, eating and drinking, this vapida spent her vacation there in Lycra and headphones following some route on her phone, and ignoring the worlds greatest restaurants, eschewing conversations with locals, refusing to smoke, abstaining from heavy cream/butter/salt, neglecting the worlds finest wines offered for a pittance, and disregarding the endless art, beautiful clothing, or one of the thousands of parties. I learned all of this in the time it took me to ask for my check and leave.
