Loss of One Store Sparks Six Observations

(photo courtesy of BostonHerald.com)

Please don’t think me a frumpy dresser if I tell you that the closing of the Talbots at 25 School Street in Boston’s Downtown Crossing hit me like a bolt from out of the blue. A bit of context. . . When last Thursday promised warm temperatures and sunny skies, I left home in a slinky, black sleeveless Misook knit dress and buttery soft, black leather Taryn Rose slides. By the time lunchtime rolled around, and I stepped outside to meet a friend for lunch at a Beacon Hill eatery, the temperatures had plummeted, the skies were darkening, and I was shivering.

The minute lunch was over, I bolted down Beacon Street in search of an inexpensive sweater, something I could hang on the back of my office door. Not a fashion statement, mind you. Just something to throw on if the air-conditioning in my office was working a little too well, or if I’d misjudged the weather.

I thought Talbots might have a heavy cotton cardigan, preferably one without a nautical, floral or holiday theme. But I never got to experience the disappointment of walking out of the store without yet another piece of black clothing that any self-respecting New York transplant would consider a wardrobe staple.

The display windows were papered over in white. When I pulled on the heavy red door with brass knocker, it refused to yield. In a state of shock, I had a brief conversation with a well-tanned, middle-aged blonde passerby who told me she had begun working in town just a few months ago. Each conceding that Talbots was hardly the last word in fashion, we both expressed dismay that this old standby was gone.

As a woman with an active lifestyle favoring practical clothing, I headed over to City Sports on Bromfield Street. Perhaps I could find a black, spandex running jacket. The saleswoman came up with something even better, a charcoal grey, loose-fitting, ultra lightweight, North Face polar fleece jacket with a full-length zipper and black piping. Unlike the cardigan I was unable to get at Talbot’s, this could be tossed in the washing machine. No dry-cleaning or hand-washing and then drying flat for days and days, with numerous towel changes.

Six random observations sparked by the closing of the Talbots at 25 School Street:

(1) What ever became of the very stylish African-American sales woman who told me she’d come to that Talbots after working at Neiman Marcus? She showed me how to wear Capri pants – always with one’s shirt un-tucked. The little weekend outfits she put together for me at least five years ago still look great. She was too talented to be working at Talbots, and I would like to think she left for a better paying job.

(2) It always amused me that this particular Talbots always had a uniformed security guard posted near the door. With the store’s most expensive item well under $400 – and that’s a conservative estimate – I can’t imagine the threat of shop-lifting or inventory shrinkage justifying his salary.

(3) Talbots struck me as a landing pad for displaced homemakers with limited skills. Wrapping hundreds or even thousands of Christmas presents year after year in a failing marriage provided them with the experience to fold apparel in tissue paper and then place the items in the store’s trademark red box. My heart goes out to these women now scrambling for another job in a discouraging economy.

(4) The chain’s own web site equates the Talbots brand with “stylish classics” such as “the perfect blazer, pearls and flats.” Who wears a blazer these days except women trying to camouflage a bit butt? The only pearls I wear are the Mikimoto’s my darling Dennis gave me for Hanukkah several years ago, although he and I both admit we'd be pressed to distinguish between real and fake pearls. I confess to wearing flats, regardless of the occasion, but I usually get them at Footstock in Wellesley.

(5) The last time I actually bought anything at Talbots was in March. Having returned from visiting Daphne and Etan in Florida, I had two new Armani pants suits from the Orlando Premium Outlet Mall. I was pleasantly surprised to find cotton and spandex v-neck tops at Talbots that I hoped would work with the suits. The tops, which I’d purchased in several different colors, were inexpensive enough to keep even when I realized they were too casual for the suits.

(6) The best thing I ever bought at Talbots was an ankle length, light-weight, royal blue rubber raincoat with snaps and a black corduroy collar. It was 1987, and Daphne’s dad and I were headed to visit her at Camp Robindel on Lake Winnipesaukee. I thought I’d look like a stiff if I showed up in a beige trench coat, and knew I could find something more suitable at the old standby on School Street. I still get compliments on the coat, which is perfect for the torrential downpours we’ve had in 2009.