I recall once putting on Docker pants and a pair of topsider-styled shoes and feeling a bit too conservative. After all, I am a Village resident, not someone living in Greenwich, Connecticut. I asked a friend if my dress was too preppy. She replied, “I love preppy.” This was rather surprising, coming from a young woman who was East Village edgy. I was intrigued.

At times, she would comment longingly on the light color of my skin. She would comment on the beauty of white women. Eventually I got to the bottom of it. She told me outright that she hated being Chinese and would love nothing better than to be a beautiful, white supermodel. Sad, really, because she really had no need whatsoever for that transformation other than the marketing of women. She was a New York City resident, intelligent, well-educated, had a great career, and was very popular, with a heart of gold and a great personality. And I knew a little about models.

I had subletted space for years to a fashion photographer and explained to her that being a model was not the promised land. I believed that she still would be unhappy as a model for many reasons. Who wants physical beauty to be his or her primary asset? You are so vulnerable and your beauty is a declining asset. Even when relatively young, the industry is looking for the next hot model. How will you feel at 30? There is lots of competition. Work and income will be very unreliable.
Also, models are hypercritical, particularly of themselves. Once in this business, any flaw takes on a surreal importance. I assured my friend that even if she was a model, she would soon see herself in as negative a light as before. But all of my reasoning fell on deaf ears. An anecdote well illustrates my thinking.

Living in New York City, you will see plenty of models everywhere. I imagine that this can be daunting and discouraging to many women, albeit a perpetual parade of eye-candy for others. My business is located at 520 Broadway in SoHo, where I have occupied the 3rd floor for 21 years. There has been a modeling agency on the 11th floor for many years, and I have had the pleasure of riding in the elevator with many male and female models.

One morning, I entered the elevator with a very beautiful, tall woman. She moved to the rear, furthest from the panel of buttons while I was closest. I hit three for myself and then asked, “Eleven?” She appeared quite surprised at my precognitive abilities and said, “Yes, thank you. How did you know that?” I told her that she was quite beautiful, obviously a model going to the 11th floor agency. She thanked me for the compliment and added, “I don’t feel very beautiful this morning.” “Ridiculous,” I told her. She appeared thankful as I got off at the 3rd floor.

Better that your personal assets are based on your talents, skills, or knowledge, not physical beauty. However, with technology in such flux, and with global competition and international outsourcing, who knows where opportunity in the future may lie or what professions may become obsolete.

The traditional trades look more attractive than ever. I have often joked that perhaps becoming a plumber may offer the most secure employment – after all, the need for plumbing will never go away. Ironically, I now see plumbing on lists of the Best Jobs for the 21st Century.
Beauty fades. Customer service goes to India. But you can’t outsource plumbing 🙂

Related Posts: In Industry, Urban Road Warrior, Lowriders and High Riders, Obsession Will Pass, Fashion Forward, Garment District, Provocateur, Big and Beautiful?

This is Part 2 of a two-part story. See Part 1 here.

On March 5, I attended Pratt Institute’s annual juggling festival (sadly, their last). I have attended many of these over the last 36 years of business and in many ways these events are like family reunions to me – an opportunity to reconnect with many customers, some of whom I have known for decades.

This is a subculture and over the years, other subcultures allied themselves, particularly the poi and fire spinning community and most recently, hoopers – see Viktoria’s Secret here and Supercute here. Many are part of the Burning Man community. The festival was held in a large gym and from time to time I would circulate, invariably meeting newcomers.

My eye was drawn to a small group where hair was being examined. I made the acquaintance of Allison Kocar (upper left photo) who, it turns out, was a customer and had been to my showroom but I had never personally met. She was engaged in conversation about her hair extensions which I found extremely striking. I learned that these were rooster feathers, dyed various colors.

I wanted to learn more and do a story. I asked her who does this type of hair installation. She knew of a couple of women. We exchanged emails and within a few days received two names. I chose to contact Masha Lunara – the name sounded intriguing. Masha was extremely receptive to my request to photograph a session. On Saturday April 16, she arranged an afternoon with six models.

Everything was set, and I left for for a boutique located at 47-38 Vernon Boulevard in Long Island City, Queens. I had expected a hair cutting salon, but found instead Ethereal L.I.C., a clothing boutique. I was expected, I was greeted by Adriana the owner and asked if I was the photographer. Masha had called, concerned she was running a little late. No matter to me, it was a rainy day and I had set aside the afternoon.

Masha arrived, quite feathered and easily mistaken for a bird. She explained that for her, this was a spiritual process and that she typically sets up her work space as a virtual altar. Over the course of the afternoon, six women had hair extensions done. The variety of hair styles and colors ran the gamut. Decisions had to be made jointly by both the client and Masha – how many feathers and what color(s). I had full cooperation in a controlled environment, so taking photos was a pleasure. See my photo gallery here.

For some reason I had expected the environment of the hair stylist – running water, shampoo etc. However, the process involved only a few special tools and supplies – pliers for crimping, small tubular silicone coated micro links, hair clamps, a hair hook threading tool, scissors and hair clamps. Hair and a feather are slipped through the micro beads and crimped in place. They can be easily moved or removed.

Feather extensions can be washed, blow-dried, brushed or even curled. They can last up to several months. I can understand the attraction since the extensions are semi-permanent and not damaging to the hair in any way. The end result is quite natural looking and when using undyed feathers and matched to a woman’s hair color, blends nicely.

Two and a half hours, the pleasant cooperation of six women and 111 photos later and I should have been satisfied, but I was curious about this rooster business. Perhaps I would be able to find a nearby rooster farm to take photos and include in this story. However, some investigation and I quickly learned that these were not ordinary rooster feathers at all. And all roads seem to lead to Whiting Farms in Delta, Colorado.
My call of inquiry was met with a very pleasant response. I did not expect to speak to the man, however I was told that Tom preferred taking these calls himself. I called the next day – Tom was extremely congenial, apologizing for not returning my call the previous evening as it was too late. He answered all my questions along with follow up emails.

Tom Whiting holds a PhD in poultry genetics. The roosters are bred specifically for the fly fisherman. The Whiting line derives from the genetic stock of early pioneers in breeding for dry flies: Hary Darbee, Andy Miner, Ted Hebert and Henry Hoffman. In 1989, Whiting purchased the Hoffman business. Birds are raised for about one year to obtain the quality needed before harvesting. Whiting Farms supplies over 650 shops worldwide. The feathers are sold as pelts. The grizzly hackle is most desired. The subject is deep and broad. If you are interested in more details, see the Whitings farm website here, a short film here. Tom Whiting supplied me with an official statement directed towards women concerned with the raising, treatment and harvesting of roosters for feathers. You can read it here.

Feather extensions are fast becoming the rage with fashionistas and Hollywood celebrities, male and female. Salons nationwide are getting into the trend and the Internet is full of dealers, supplies and videos. The demand however has resulted in a shortage of feathers, with women purchasing feathers from fishing supply shops. When visiting the Urban Angler for Part 1 of this story (see here), staff member Tony confirmed this trend at their shop with women coming in and purchasing bundles of hackles at once.

With some shops out of stock, many anglers are not pleased to be competing with the fashion industry for fine feathers. Tom Whiting takes it all in stride, anticipating that this will be a short-lived trend. But for the time being, fishermen will have to share a crowded nest with fashion and find they are Birds of a Feather Tied Together 🙂

Note: My thanks to the models and Masha Lunara. You can contact Masha here.

My father was a passionate fly fisherman. By passionate, I mean obsessed, often having to use various ruses to deflect his interest, which was, unfortunately for him, very thinly veiled. On family trips or drives, he would often point out some appealing aspect of the surrounding landscape, to which my mother would immediately comment “NO. We are not going fishing. Forget it.” She had mastered these preemptive strikes long ago, having put in her time as a fisherman’s widow as a young wife. She now knew all to well that in every natural setting, there is likely a stream with fish – fish who catch husbands.

I never went fishing – the trips were too early and infrequent. Always curious about this obsession, I later learned the reason for the fly fisherman’s passion. My father is a quiet man and it took someone more verbal to explain it to me. Catching fish is a challenge. In some cases, there are specific fish in a lake which are legendary – so clever that they can not be caught and even go by name. In fly fishing there are skills to master, insects to study, knowing the type of fish to fish for, different conditions, flies to select and tailor to the situation and a myriad of other nuances to consider.

Fly tying of artificial flies is art and science. There is a selection of feathers, both common and exotic, other materials and tools. Some tiers invent their own fly designs. These are often coveted and shrouded in secrecy – fish can become acquainted with flies and a new or lesser used design can provide a decided edge over other fishermen. To share that design means to dilute its effectiveness. My father once invented an effective fly which he shared with a friend only to later find that it was becoming known miles away throughout Pennsylvania. Rather than see this as a personal compliment, he was furious.

Then there is where to fish. A fly fisherman is forever on a quest for that secret place where wild fish run rampant. Of course every other fly fisherman is on the same quest. Some will travel to locations so remote that they are inaccessible except by private plane. My father tells tales of the fishing in the back woods of Maine, using a vehicle with winches to pull themselves through particularly difficult dirt roads to some particular fishing mecca. But the end result – perhaps native or wild brook trout is ample reward for the fish lover.

In the 1980s, I decided that it was time for my father to own a high quality rod and reel, so I consulted with an old college friend who was an avid outdoors man. At the time, graphite rods were coming on to the market – these were the latest and greatest thing. To see this kind of performance had previously meant a bamboo fly rod, a very expensive proposition. I was surprised to learn that my shopping needs for fly fishing could be met in midtown Manhattan at the Urban Angler, a shop renowned amongst fishing enthusiasts and aficionados worldwide.

I recently visited the Urban Angler at 206 Fifth Avenue, which I had wanted to do for this website for some time. The shop was founded in 1988 by Steve and his son Jon Fisher. The staff was accommodating to my photography needs. Tony, a native from Argentina and avid fly fisherman, guided me through the shop and answered questions. The shop is quite beautiful, situated in a third floor office building, overlooking Madison Square Park.

This story, however, really has little to do with fishing. I went to Urban Angler for a very different reason. In Part 2, you will learn some secrets about an unusual and unexpected connection between people of different worlds. If you promise to keep it secret, I will show you why there are many different Birds of a Feather Tied Together 🙂

One of the worst living scenarios in New York City is an apartment on a ground floor. I lived for a couple years like this in Chelsea on 23rd Street – there was zero privacy unless you kept your shades drawn. It was like living on stage in the spotlight. I had instances where passersby would try to talk to me. On one occasion, I was propositioned by someone sexually.

I can understand the impulse to peer into the windows of others. It is very difficult to avoid at least a casual glance into an apartment where people and contents are visible from the street. At night, strolling residential streets with illuminated interiors is akin to walking the corridors of a museum, except here, the displays are not of things from times past, but of real people and real lives – a living laboratory.

On April 29, 2009, I wrote a story, Rear Window, inspired by the Hitchcock classic film of the same name. However, I don’t have a rear window in my home. I have front windows to the street and I am blessed with park views. I have featured vistas from these windows in various seasons – see White By Design 2, Wood Glass Brass and Trees, Signs of Summer, and Enchanted April. But these windows rarely provide me with photo opportunities other than nature shots. Observing the people and places in the city that are worthy of reading and writing about requires walking the streets, riding the trains, visiting structures, attending festivals and spending time in the parks.

I keep a camera with me at all times with no exceptions. Although a point-and-shoot camera does not always provide the ability to photograph subjects with the best quality under all conditions, I am finding more and more that many of the most interesting captures, particularly with people, are pure happenstance. Serendipity is the operative here, and better to have shot and lost quality than not to have shot at all. I still talk of my regret over some terrific lost opportunities – some because I had no camera, and others because I was not decisive enough, considering whether something was worthy, or waiting for better conditions.

Regarding today’s photo, this was a real shocker to me. I caught this woman sitting behind the window in Starbucks while I was walking on 6th Avenue in the Village. I am at a loss as to the reason for a display of extreme matching: luggage, pants, shoes, jacket and hat. I was not motivated to go in as I might normally be and learn the story behind the wardrobe. This would require that I make her acquaintance, chit chat, and get the facts in a diplomatic way without any intended insult. So for today, it’s just a look through a Front Window 🙂

One of the most interesting things about New York City is that, in spite of the myriad of groups and individuals who are militant regarding so many issues, there is still tremendous tolerance.
The sale and wearing of fur is a hotly debated and highly contentious matter, yet it is very surprising that an individual can sell or wear furs in Manhattan and survive unscathed.

On Broadway and Spring Street, I witnessed an unusual occurrence – the sale of genuine vintage furs on the street. The vendors informed me that these were purchased from a theater company which had gone out of business. The subject of used or vintage furs is also debated – some feel the damage has been done, so why not recycle and use the furs? Others feel that wearing of fur of any type sends the wrong message, that fur is OK – how would others know that you wear a fur for that reason?
The prices ranged in the low hundreds for furs which would have originally cost in the low thousands. There was a flurry of interest and activity with women trying on furs. Always prepared and equipped with the necessary sales accoutrement, this street vendor also had a full length mirror. One coat being tried on had a tear in the stitching. No worry here either – the vendor said he had sewing materials and could easily repair it.

I brushed my hand against a number of these coats – nothing feels so extraordinarily luxuriant as genuine fur. The white fox was particularly beautiful. However, I can never fully “enjoy” the experience of fur, feeling a bit like Cruella de Vil. Too many protests, anti-fur campaigns, and awareness of how they got to that rack makes the whole thing feel like the epitome of fetishistic self-indulgence. Much like a chocoholic looking to control their intake, if you have misgivings about furs, best to stay away. Otherwise I can assure you, you will be Lured by the Luxuriant…

Other Stories about Furs: Barbie in Furs, Surrounded by Fur

I recently was designing carrying bags for my product line. Outsourcing for a small business in small quantities is not viable, so we turned to domestic sources. This process was also getting us nowhere, so I decided to go local. If you want to understand the beauty of a manufacturing district, than go through the design development to production phase of a product where all your suppliers are within walking distance of each other. The ease and speed is astounding.

Within a span of two New York City blocks, I was able to procure fabric, hardware, sewing accessories, visit a sewing contractor, and get pricing. If you have a pattern and materials, you can often even get a finished sample while you wait. If you are designing new products, this typically requires many revisions. Once you have gone through this process within the garment district, any other way becomes almost unthinkable.

The networking and referrals also greatly accelerate the sourcing process. Rather than hunt through the myriad of vendors for a particular piece of hardware, one supplier gave me the name and address of a specialty house one block away. A quick walk and I had exactly what I wanted.

The garment industry is really one of the last industries New York City has left where the entire supply chain is located in one area, from design to production of finished products. We’ve lost enough in New York City, and anyone with any history and familiarity with New York sees the danger in losing the garment and fashion industry. There is concern over this matter, and efforts are being made to keep the industry in the city.

Step into one of those spartan, all-stainless steel elevators in the west 30s. Step off and find your way down a dimly lit hallway to a sewing factory, buzzing with machines. This is not the New York City of movies, entertainment, architecture, glamour, glitz, or fine dining.
This is New York at work. In Industry 🙂