MILWAUKEE NYC-ITALY-GREECE AND A DAY IN LONDON BLOG POST TWO/PART TWO

A 24 HOUR SPRINT THROUGH ROME
THE SHOPPING AND EATING EDITION
SHOPPING

Shopping in Rome is for us a contact sport. It is not a frivolous activity. It requires extreme stamina and years of skill development. We are masters. Emmy is still an apprentice in training but one with exceptional talent and potential. She may be a little green around the edges but she will soon have earned her degree with marks equivalent to a Magnum Cum Laude in shopping.

For the uninitiated Rome is not for the unschooled. It is rich with high fashion and the Romans know how to flaunt it. You can spot the non-contenders a mile away dressed in jean cutoffs and t-shirts with sayings like "I'm with stupid" and an arrow pointing down to their crotch.

The real Roman men are decked out in starched white shirts either with silk ties or unbuttoned to the point just above where any lower and it would be too gangsterish rather than sexy at sixty.

The women wear linen and heels and genuine leather bags that can be differentiated from the knock-offs by the professional shoppers with a degree in shopping fraud detection.

Now real shopping schooling doesn't always require a huge bankroll. It helps but when you're trying to school someone on how to develop an eye for bargains you want them to learn in places where they have to hone their sleuthing ability of separating the fashion wheat from the chaff. Emmy's training ground has been through high-end window shopping in the prestigious shopping meccas of the world and then applying that knowledge in thrift and vintage stores where the finding tests her knowledge and fortitude toward real bargain fluency.

This can be seen in this Christian Dior coat she snagged at an antique mall for an amazing $36.

In Rome she did her research and found a street crowded with vintage stores not frequented by many tourists and kept close to the chest by most Roman fashion trendsetters.

Hunting through stores so cramped with merchandise she immediately sniffed out the best of the best walking away with a Gucci belt, Trussardi handbag and an amazing red velvet jacket from the fashion house of Roberta di Camerino. We were so proud.

Rick was on top of his game sorting through the new trends in fall fashion from some of the higher-end shops and coming up with a whole new look for the fall in patterns that will make New York stand up and take notice.

He also decided that since my birthday was coming up the following day he wouldn't forget me. I'd never been into jewelry in a big way. Never bought much more than a ring or two. Never wanted a gold tooth or a grill, but I recently bought an inexpensive chain bracelet to go with the watch I'm never without. I'm old-fashioned.

My watches are never digital but radial. I was hoping to find a sterling bracelet to go with my watch and the chain bracelet I already had. I was a little weary of parting with the kind of Euros I knew I'd have to spend for what I wanted, but Rick came through with exactly what I was looking for. He knew sterling from the imposters and boy did I luck out.

My shopping came in the form of a little antique shop I only happened to stumble upon selling these small rolling pins and ink jars form India. I couldn't pass them up. I'm a sucker for high design.

Not a bad haul for a day that included a trip to the Galleria Borghese, breakfast at the hotel and two meals at two different restaurants and topped off by gelato to boot.




















EATING

When an American hotel tells you breakfast is included the best you can expect is a coffee dispenser and a selection of packaged sweet rolls. Not so in Europe. At the hotel La Residenza breakfast was a meal well worth getting up for and one that would sustain you all the way to dinner. Scrambled eggs and bacon, prosciutto and sausages, muesli and granola, a selection of exotic fruits, chocolate croissants, cheeses and the list goes on. Our hostess, who remembered us from our last visit, also remembered who took what beverage with his or her meal. As soon as she saw us she was there with Emmy's cappuccino, Rick's juice and my hot chocolate. Bless her heart.

We were so full from breakfast we didn't want to do anything major for lunch.

Around three in the afternoon while visiting the vintage area on the other side of the Piazza Navona we decided on making a stop at an old friend, Etabli.

It's one of those cafes that serve an ingenious menu in a room that feels like a warm worn shearling coat,

not too fancy but exuding comfortable style.

Everyone feels welcome in Etabli including children and dogs.

The menu was extremely tempting but knowing we were going out to dinner we settled on an appetizer plate with a selection of salumi and cheeses along with an olive tapenade and bowl of sweet honey.

That evening we decided to go back to another old favorite, Nana. They specialize in seafood and did not disappoint.

Emmy and Rick are much more adventuresome seafood eaters than am I . Anything that stares back at me before I have to eat it is going to automatically turn me off. Besides I have an aversion to those needle-like little bones that I fear are going to puncture my throat or lodge permanently in the lining of my stomach converting it into an inverted porcupine.

I must admit that the sea bass didn't look quite so scary once it had been prepared for baking and presented in a blanket of sea salt.

Then once the filets had been plated with the heads missing and the filets boned I could sort of see the appeal.

I, on the other hand, went for these boneless crustaceans in the form of some Mediterranean langoustines served on a bed of linguini with sundried tomatoes, pepper and virgin olive oil. Clearly my plate looked much better than theirs.

At the very end of the evening Alessandro, our hotel maître d' and mixologist supreme, sent us off with a nightcap making sure we'd sleep well and be prepared for the next days journey.

MILWAUKEE NYC-ITALY-GREECE AND A DAY IN LONDON BLOG POST ONE

GETTING READY

One of the most under-rated aspects of travel is the anticipation and the planning. Hours are spent pouring over books and online sites researching locations, places to stay, and how to get there. This is when we get those ah-ha moments when one of us discovers something unique and shares it, waiting for a thumbs up or down. It's a giddy time of looking forward to new experiences of exotic cuisine, museum marvels and on this trip beaches and pools filled with sun and warm weather as a means for extending the summer well beyond the season of our Madison and New York homes.
I've been known to be a bit superstitious about many things; travel being one of them and this trip started out no differently. The night before Emmy and I were to leave Madison for New York to meet up with Rick and begin our vacation was also the first night of the NFL Sunday night football game pairing my beloved Green Bay Packers against those pesky lowly Bears. I'd invited my best friend, Jim, over to watch the game on our pretentiously oversized big screen TV. As anyone in Wisconsin will remember the first half of that game was anything but a Packer's dream scenario. It was so bad I couldn't take it. I told Jim to throw in the towel and go home and I went upstairs and watched the end of the Miss America pageant instead of the second half of the game. That only points out how hopelessly low I had gone. I pouted all night and fretted this might portend something awful about our impending trip. For a good part of the next morning I avoided all contact with any form of news thinking it could only be bad and I mean bad with a huge "B". Miracle of miracles I stopped in my tracks when I inadvertently hit the MSN button on my computer and almost had an involuntary bowel movement. The Packers and Aaron Rogers had pulled off the impossible and our trip was going to be saved. I could continue with my obsessive planning knowing that everything in the world was going to be all right.                                                                                                          

I'm, unfortunately, a little anal about this pre-trip preparation compiling lists and writing out schedules of when we need to be where, how we intend to get there and where we can get any advantage to better seats or the coveted golden ticket to the front of the entry line. The job of head scheduler that has been bestowed on me by my partner and our daughter is a job whose mantle I wear more by default than as an honorarium. Rick and Emmy would gladly let me be the travel agent relieving them of the responsibility and also giving them the enviable positions of critics at large should anything go astray. On this trip I've managed to keep things pretty tidy with one brilliant exception. I spelled Rick's name on all of our major flights. I somehow left the "h" out of Richard. With our Virgin Atlantic and British Airways flights between Newark to Heathrow to Rome and back again you're allowed to check-in 24 hours prior to your flight. Stickler to detail that I am I had set my alarm for the exact time to the minute for checking in and sat patiently by my computer waiting to hit the entry button and begin the process. When it came to entering Rick's passport information I kept getting an error window and couldn't figure out why. That's when that damn "h" showed its hateful head and began the mad scramble of last minute phone calls to a half dozen entities to get it straightened out. Finally with the "h" added to "Ricard" changing it to "Richard" the last hurdle had been vaulted and the ticketing got done.

So here we are now on the plane from Newark and on our way to another amazing journey.

BROOKS BROTHERS ANNIVERSARY EXHIBIT IN GRAND CENTRAL TERMINAL

TWO HUNDRED YEARS OF AMERICAN STYLE

For a brand to survive half a century is a remarkable feat, to have survived to see it's two-hundredth anniversary is extraordinary, especially when that brand is in the fickle fashion industry.

Two hundred years ago Henry Sands Brooks opened the doors to his clothing emporium.
"Known for sporting the newest and most novel of English tailoring at a time when pigs were running wild in the streets of New York City, Brooks was often stopped by strangers asking for a waistcoat or cravat exactly like the one he was wearing, perhaps making Brooks fashion's first disrupter."

The line currently known for its traditionalist nature was started by a man who was far from an imitator.

On April 7,1818 the tradition of Brooks Brothers began its fashion brand in the most untraditional way only to become the criterion of traditionalist style perhaps because it has outlasted all of its competitors by creating a brand that is the standard for the everyman.

Their mark of excellence has been symbolized by its trademarked lamb suspended by a ribbon. It harkens back to as far as ancient Greece and the Golden Fleece. Ever since it was painted over their shop door in 1850 it has become a symbol of fine clothing and superior quality.

Despite its conservative reputation there has been a streak of ingenuity that has carried them through the decades.

They brought us styles and fabrics that were both novel and artistic.

They've also been able to cater to not only the elite but the everyman as well.

So dress me up in Brooks Brothers men's fashion and send me out into the night.






















THE GALLERY

San Babila, Milan
The Sartorialist (Scott Schuman), photographer
Represented by Danzinger Gallery

ELKHORN ANTIQUE FLEA MARKET

TREASURE HUNTING WITH EMMY

We are suckers for an antique store or better yet a multi-dealer mall, a vintage shop, a country auction or the ultimate: an antique flea market. On our weekly jaunts back to Wisconsin we always seem to reserve one day during the week when we hit the road with a planned route dotted with researched stops along the way at least at one of the afore mentioned shopping venues.

One of our current favorite stops is the Elkhorn Antique Flea Market held four times during the summer. It's not Brimfield or Madison-Boukville but it draws five hundred plus vendors scattered out over the fields and in the animal barns of the Walworth County Fairgrounds.

Now here's where my lack of paying attention to the details comes in. Since Rick was back in New York and our friend and traveling companion, Jim, was at a wedding it was left to Emmy and me to do the dirty work of going to the August edition of the Elkorn flea market. I, of course, love any opportunity I can get to spend time with my daughter. I was really looking forward to this trip. We'd instilled the antique hunting bug in Emmy early.  At the age of three she could sniff out a Breyer horse dealer a mile away. She amassed quite a collection by the time she was twelve.

Now that the horses are mostly packed up and put away her focus has drifted into the clothing and jewelry area with a new category of vintage LP album covers. She's not an early riser but she acquiesced to accompany me in the car at the early hour of eight in the morning on Saturday, her day off.
The fair opens for early-birds at seven but over the years I've learned about how much I can push her before I've gone too far and she begs off so I had to settle for not being the first one through the gate laying down the five dollar entrance fee.

The drive from Madison to Elkhorn takes about an hour and fifteen to an hour and a half depending on the route. Saturday morning usually means lite to moderate traffic so I felt we'd arrive at a reasonable time. We did, but things just didn't look right as we pulled up to the fairgrounds. There was a woman stationed at the gate looking as if she was ready to collect tickets so I did a u-turn and pulled into the gate.
"Are you a vendor?' came the first question and then the addendum, "Setup can't start until one"
I was stumped but Emmy wasn't. The market wasn't on Saturday. It would be the following day on Sunday. This is not the first time I've misplaced a day. Fortunately, at this point Emmy was very forgiving and understanding of my inability to look at a calendar date and line it up with an actual day of the week. The day wasn't ruined.

We trekked on to Lake Geneva and then ambled back through Delavan and Milton hitting a slew of antiquing opportunities. The down side: I wasn't going to get her to give me two days and come back the following day for the flea. I'd be on my own.

Since I was now on my own I got up at six on Sunday and headed back out to Elkhorn without a copilot. I couldn't not go and that says a lot about my obsession with collecting things I clearly don't need.

There's free parking but I felt my dedication and diligence deserved the five-dollar fee for parking on a neighbor's lawn in an area canopied with shade trees. I was determined. Even at nine in the morning the sun was blazing and since a good portion of the fairgrounds wasn't going to provide much cover I thought at least my car should have the benefit of a little relief from the heat.

Right off the bat I knew I was going to be in trouble. I was going to have to be very judicious in any purchasing. Like a gambling addict in recovery I had allotted myself a spending limit and by god I was going to stick to it. I had to pass up a vintage pinball machine with super cool graphics. The realization that it wouldn't have fit in the car or in our house promptly hit me before I could spend my entire spending budget.

I then fell in love with this adorable metal dog bed but I didn't want our two dogs to have to fight over who would get to claim this little gem once I tricked it out with luxury bedding so I left it behind as well.

There was a lot to choose from like these marble and bronze sculptures.

I found these hysterical children's chairs with the rosemaling seats and Barbie and Ken back slats.

Toys held a big presence at many booths including these vintage transportation miniature replicas more collectable by adults than children

and this adorable tattered Teddy Bear propped up by a window taking in the sun.

The ubiquitous Fiestaware was sprinkled throughout the fair but it seems most sellers knew what they had and the prices reflected that taking away their desirability.

The north woods appeal of the area held its sway in many booths with tramp art, quilts and cabin accessories.

Repurposing was also shown by a bit too many vendors for my taste but I did like these metal tub chairs.

My better judgment finally dissipated. Perhaps it was the heat that got to me but I started giving in to my desires as I scoured each aisle and horse stall for something I'm sure I didn't need. So this is what came home with me: a pair of marble horse head bookends ($40), a $20 framed ad for MunsingWear union suits (that will be a Christmas present for my daughter), a portrait of a WWI Soldier in uniform ($20), four wood frames all for $15, a Bauer bowl for $8, several old photos ($10), a $10 doctor's bag and a great sign with "WE ARE IN THE HOUSE " on one side and "SOLD OUT" on the other (fifty bucks). I thought I did pretty well, a little restraint and a little extravagance. That's the way life should be.
THE GALLERY

Efflorescence, 2015
Sally Gall, photographer
Represented by Julie Saul Gallery