On The Ground Retail With Style Statements And Cheerful Prep At Target

Liberty of London isn't all Target USA* has to offer for spring shopping. Last Sunday my daughter and I found some other pretty useful stuff. And, if not useful to us, surely useful to someone.

A brief aside. I suffered from the usual large store shell shock upon entrance, and spent some erratic moments flitting from Liberty print to Liberty print, like a moth drawn to polyester flowered flame. However, upon recovering from the visual intoxication, we found some cardigans. Argyle with a twist, in colors bright enough to flirt with disrespect for the hallowed Scottish pattern. Mostly cotton. Cute as the proverbial button. This one made its way home to my daughter's wardrobe.

Continuing my hunt for the perfect khakis, I tried on these pants. While I gave them high marks for fit and fabric, I cannot wear capris without feeling like I've added 10 years to my already advanced age and subtracted 6 inches from my already not-long legs. But someone would like these very much. The jacket has nice, lined, rolled up cuffs, although it had been so recently removed from a packing crate that folding marks made fit difficult to assess.

And then, to my profound surprise, madras shorts. In Northern California. Will wonders never cease. I must tell Tickled Pink and Green, and Hopsy, the queens of prep fashion from Target.

Hipster/alternative gals were not left in deshabille. Paisley tank tops, $8.00. We took the orange one home for my daughter. It's fun to dress a redhead, after all my years in the blond camp.

Finally, Mr. Gaultier's wares were on display.

Don't you just love the audacity of this dress? No? It has a crinoline, for pete's sake. A big, ol', honkin' crinoline. And daisies. Unfortunately, it also has a silhouette in mind which required the waistline to begin directly below the bust. No thought for a ribcage. My daughter, 5'9" and a size 2 at Banana Republic, looked rather tall and graceful,** but also like she was wearing something from Project Runway where the judges might have asked, in puzzled tones, "And where is ze bodice?" Of course, they might simply have pronounced it fierce, but that's why I'm searching for the perfect khakis and Mr. Gaultier, evidently, is not.

Still, it's fun to imagine that I might have put this on, when I was 25 and living in Manhattan. After our accounting final? Yes?

*I'd be interested to hear how any international Targets stack up, or what your equivalent outlets offer of similar price and quality.
**Hey, I'm a mom, we get a few free bragging tickets, right?

On The Ground Retail With Liberty Of London At Target

If you are young, like fashion and its trends, enjoy color and a bargain, do not read this post. Go to Target right now.

If you prefer to window shop before buying, here's what my daughter and I saw Sunday morning at a Target here in the San Francisco Bay Area. The collection of women's clothing by Liberty of London, version Target. Our first reaction was, "Ooh, cute!"

The collaboration is about the prints, as you can imagine, in their 1960's England Swings Like A Pendulum Do version. A little bit Peter Max-ish. Made in China, of polyester, but they did a pretty nice job of serving up the essential Liberty experience at this kind of price point. The quickest way to slap some on would be with these scarves. Or a pink handled umbrella.

If you want to dip yourself in deeper, they've got dresses.

A bunch of dresses.

The issue, of course, is with cut and fit. Some things definitely look better on the hanger than on the person. You have to hunt around like a truffle pig for something that works on you, and those of us over 35 might not find what we're looking for.

They've got tops.

One of which we bought, for $25. You can see it here, behind the chocolate macaron, on my daughter. There were no macarons at Target. But at the rate the world is moving, they might show up there on a not too far distant Sunday morning. Go Sundays.

4 Ways NOT To Shop At Big Box Stores

Big box stores make me whimper.

I think I know why. We've all got our ways to understand the world. My professor father taught me to read very early, and I must have decided reading was such an efficient system that it ought to work on everything. I was little. Little ones think like that.

Look.
Scan.
Understand.

I go by shapes and words. Big box stores aren't friendly environments. This weekend I made an extended foray through Fry's (a local, 100% full concentration computer geek store), Best Buy, Bed Bath and Beyond, and Crate and Barrel. Just saying those names makes me reel and stumble.

Walk into Fry's. This is what it looks like. At least this was what it looked like once I could finally open my eyes. The problem compounded by relative ignorance of technical terminology.


When I am asked, "Have you found what you are looking for," how can I know? I am still trying to differentiate rectangles from triangles. All I know is that I am in the land of irregular shapes. I can only tell the sales person, "I am looking for cable, which is tubular, and everything here seems to have been unnaturally made into squares." The only words I can see mean very little. I know USB. Universal Serial Bus. Otherwise, gibberish. If they hung large graphic representations of the cables within, like those abstractions of people crossing the street, I would maybe be OK. Maybe.

The sign below is made for people like me. Lost in a useless scan for meaning, we catch sight of this sign, and our last flash of neural activity says "Yes! Yes, I can ASK someone! Words are available! Nouns I can make sense of!" We will ignore the fact that the friendly sign appears to be pointing only to another sign.


The retail equivalent of Papua New Guinea. Goodness.

Next, Best Buy. OK. The boxes' shapes correspond a little bit to what they contain. The words are bigger. I can walk on in hope. Maybe I've made it to Poland.


Then Bed Bath and Beyond. Aha. Scotland. My language will be spoken. Fewer boxes. These shapes I know. Those are things you find in kitchens. See? I'm doing better. The Book of Bed Bath and Beyond I can read.


Crate and Barrel. The traveler finds comfort. They are taking even more things OUT of the boxes. Thank you! Not only can I read, I can take notes. I can perform exigesis. The shopping equivalent of Chicago. And yes, please, I would like a shiny new ice cream scoop. Whether I eat much ice cream or not.


Were I to have wandered a little further into the Stanford Shopping Center, say, to Neiman Marcus, or Wilkes Bashford, I would have come home. No boxes at all. No need for words. I can recognize articles of clothing at first glance, especially when displayed so lovingly on mannequins. Tsk, tsk, tsk. Clearly I lack skills required for 2010. And dwindling fortunes.

Helpful hints? Anyone? How do you shop in large retail outlets? Are there strategies? I can't shop Frette forever.