All are subject to the whims of fashion
My daughter told me recently that Thursday is her favorite day of the week because that’s when the New York Times Styles section is delivered to her inbox. Through the miracle of the Internet, without leaving her Seattle studio apartment she can keep up with all the latest fashion trends in New York, and pass them on to me.
Normally that’s about as useful as passing fashion tips on to a squirrel in the park, but this week there were a few items that piqued my interest.
For instance, mustaches are making a comeback. Personally, I think mustaches are icky, but according to this article they are approaching the “so far out it’s in†status. I have long campaigned for the return of the mullet for much the same reason — if you sport one you are either ultra-dorky or ultra-cool.
Context has a lot to do with which category a mustacheod mullet wearer would fall into: live and work in a small town that used to depend on logging but is almost dead, not cool; live in a tiny apartment in a trendy Seattle neighborhood and hang out at the local coffee house surfing on your laptop, cool.
Age is the other factor. It’s kind of cute to see a feathery wisp of mustache on a hopeful young man’s upper lip, not so appealing to see a middle-aged man who has worn the same lip hair since Magnum P.I. was hot. Even less appealing if there is more hair on the lip than the head. (Yes, I’m talking to you, Dr. Phil.) Mustaches should be a phase, not a way of life.
The NY Times reports on a trend that began on the West Coast and is just now showing up on the streets of the gritty city: leggings, or tights, and barely butt-covering long shirts. The “lumberjack†look is popular, with a belted red flannel shirt over black leggings. Hate to tell you this Big Apple, but that look has never gone out of style in Forks, Wash., Logging Capital of the World.
This look, like the mustache, is not for everyone. It looks great on those with willowy, sapling-like legs, less appealing if your legs more closely resemble old-growth stumps.
And finally, a trend to strike fear into the hearts of booksellers large and small: books have become the latest accessory in retail stores. Cookbooks in kitchen stores is not novel, but novels in boutiques is. And when’s the last time you browsed the literature selection while waiting for car parts?
Abby Hoffman, vice president of sales and marketing for Chronicle Books in San Francisco, said it’s a way for the book business to stay alive. Wait. Abby Hoffman?? How the venerable New York Times could use a source named Abby Hoffman, as in the notorious ‘60s radical who wrote “Steal This Book,†and not comment on a connection is just plain lazy journalism, but that’s another subject.
Anyway, Hoffman reports that Chronicle Books sells most of its 350 offbeat titles not in bookstores but in grocery stores, children’s clothing stores and wineries.
“Anyplace that sells merchandise is a place to sell books.†God bless capitalism.
As a lover of small independent bookstores, with their worn wooden floors, smell of old books, cozy chairs for reading and neighborly feel, I have to wonder if this trend is a good or bad thing.
Book sales are down in general; people don’t read as much as they used to, and stopping at the local bookstore just to buy a book is probably not tops on a soccer mom’s to-do list. So if it gets people reading by making it easier to pick up a book, then that’s a plus.
But, if mom and pop independent bookstores start going under because they can’t compete with the book selection at Safeway, that’s a big negative.
Publishing giant Simon and Schuster reported that “special market sales†have grown by 50 percent, surpassing total sales to independent bookstores. Just look around Kitsap County — each town may have only one or two small bookstores, but there are hundreds of other retail outlets.
The trend can be a boon for new authors, whose books face less competition on the shelves of Le Boutique Chi Chi than on the packed racks at Barnes and Noble. They can also hit their target audience more effectively: bodice rippers near the lingerie, spy thrillers next to the boxer shorts.
Perhaps independent booksellers need to take a proactive stance and fight back against this menace slouching toward the bookstore. I can see it now: Boxes of Special K nuzzled up next to the diet books, sunglasses tinting the travel section, berets between chapbooks of poetry, boxes of bon bons and tissues bookending the romance section.
Cookbooks and antacids? Aisle 10.