Critical Shopper - Tod's - Critical Shopper - Luxu

Saly986336 · Wysłany: Śro 19:01, 16 Mar 2011

I OFTEN dream of Gwyneth Paltrow — aspirational dreams where I am her good, good friend and we make precious lunches in her legacy beach house, laughing. Then I help her with her lines, she gives me a sweater and we hug. I wake up in my sagging bed, completely embarrassed by my Us Weekly unconscious.

Lately I have been seeing Gwyneth in my waking life because she appears in ads for Tod’s, the Italian luxury brand. She sits on a lush blue couch as if waiting for a flight, with a white leather bag covered in tassels at her side. She is in a cashmere turtleneck, her blond hair perfectly set, her wrist bedecked with Tod’s braided leather bracelets, a slaughter of foxes draped over her shoulders. She breaks into a smile that seems to say: “The Concorde is canceled? I guess I’ll just wait here while they prepare my dirigible to Nantucket.”
Although her likeness doesn’t appear in the shop, Gwyneth Paltrow hovered in my head like a goddess-wraith as I entered the gleaming Tod’s boutique.
The store is right where it should be — on a corner of Madison Avenue, near other high-end stores like Dior, Gucci and Dolce & Gabbana — an enclave that seems completely unaffected by anything going on in the world. The country could fall into ruin, culture could crumble, we could be forced to eat bottle caps for sustenance,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], and people would still be shopping here.
Amy Winehouse was playing when I entered — from her first album, before she and the global economy got all toxic. Everyone said hello to me. The lighting was warm; many walls were accented in a comforting brownish-mango color.
The space, a shallow rectangle, is divided between women’s and men’s selections. Over on the men’s side, slim black wallets ($225), braided leather bracelets ($225) and key chains ($175) are displayed under glass with museumlike reverence.
I was drawn to a credit-card case made of alligator, as well as a black leather messenger bag on a shelf underneath it. The prices for these items weren’t displayed anywhere, to prevent you from letting out a ululating war cry, disrupting the moneyed, mellow mood.
TOD’S has been run by Diego Della Valle since the 1970s, when he took over his family’s shoemaking business and rebranded it J. P. Tod’s, a name he found in a Boston phone book. The brand is famous for the Gommino, a versatile slip-on “driving shoe” for jet-setters. They are soft, moccasinlike and have nubby stoppers along the tread — 133 of them, to be exact.
Several varieties appear on the shelves in the back of the store: some with white stitching ($375), others in perforated leather ($375), some even made of black calf hair ($475). While I walked around, a saleswoman followed and told me about each pair. Her desire for commission came off gracefully, like the trail of a perfume, and didn’t annoy me at all. She was very pretty and, like every employee, wore a dark suit.
I found one version of the Gommino among the shelves made in a scaly gray skin. “Those are lizard” she said. They were also $1,495, and I am not Elton John.
A loud man walked in with two teenage boys who both had spiky, obnoxious hair like the Gotti brothers. “What do you wanna try on?” he said. The young men pointed out a shelf of fancy hybrid sneaker shoes: rubber soles and laces, with leather business-shoe exteriors. One looked as if it were wrapped in cellophane, clearly designed for sneakerheads who collect these kinds of preposterous things like zealous numismatists.
I found a nice pair of brown suede boots for $725. It would take only one winter day, when sidewalks are covered with unavoidable piles of black, salty slush, and they would look like many of my shoes: scuffy, sad, stained.
A pair of black medallion print shoes seemed more durable. I asked for a pair, as well as a pair of Gommino driving shoes in an understated dark brown just to see what all the fuss is about. While I waited, I watched a little girl the exact size and shape of Suri Cruise grab at a pair of loafers her father was trying on. “Now be careful,” he said to her. “These are very very expensive!”
The black shoes were $732 and fit beautifully. They accomplished that subtle, difficult balance in men’s shoe design by giving your feet prominence while not overdoing it with an exaggerated sole or bulbous toe. The driving shoe fit nicely as well, but it was so leisurely and soft, I felt as if I could wear it only if I lived on the QE2 and walked along the carpets and polished decks until I died. Also, I am not so in love with the little black eraser nubs that populate the bottom. The shoes were $325.
“People usually wear it without socks” my friendly saleswoman said. Ew. I tried that already in high school during the Docksides trend. A recollection of a stinky sophomore year passed through me.
Over in the women’s section, headless mannequins were dressed in Gwyneth’s weekend wear: suede pants, cashmere V-necks, quilted vests. High on a top shelf was the actress/brand representative’s tasseled bag, for $4,175. No one would really see this bag unless they were walking around the store with their chin up. Maybe that is the point.
Checking out the Web site when I returned home, I saw a photo of a men’s tote bag in alligator for $34,000. How could I have missed that? Maybe, tonight when I dream, Gwynnie will give it to me.
TOD'S
650 Madison Avenue (60th Street); (212) 644-5945.
FANCY FEET A shiny, chrome-edged Madison Avenue store for the illustrious Italian luxury brand of shoes — along with bags, accessories and select clothing — for people who sneeze $100 bills.
TOTALLY DISCREET The salespeople hover quietly, and the nosebleed-inducing prices are difficult to find. (Some appear on minute labels on the heel or tongue of the shoe.)
LUXURY CLEAT If you fantasize you are Richard Branson, or are Richard Branson, you may be interested in the comfortable slip-on Gommino shoe for long flights.