Buttons, Beads and Balls-Ups

I can now say without fear or favour - whatever that means - that I will never be a frock designer when I grow up. I'm here in New York with friends Lesley and Laura at the trade show Fashion Coterie. While they finished setting up their booth, I was given the simple small task of finding the Garment District and buying nine beads, six ribbons and three buttons.

Laura (kneeling) and Lesley setting up their booth

After two hours of getting lost in a taxi then walking the length of Manhattan and two more agonising hours of indecision over colour, shape and shine I came back with all the wrong stuff.

Lesley was terribly sweet and made it work, but in the Devil-Wears-Prada-Wintour world I would be given a withering "I don't understand why you can't ..." and red-soled booted back onto Starbucks duty. The ribbon was shiny silk and not matte cotton, the beads wouldn't fit through the ribbon and the buttons were plastic, not enamel.

Me in the Garment District

 

But now I've seen the dazzling sights of the trim capitol on the Avenue of the Americas. Others may come to view shows, museums, walk in the park and reflect upon the history of this nation. But I have witnessed the seas of beads and walls of buttons and rooms of ribbons....and I have now a huge respect for those who blithely pick trim in a matter of minutes and move on with their lives.

At M&J after viewing more ribbon than would fill a lifetime of Bronte sisters' novels, I headed into the button room. Gentle Readers I was unsure whether to rein in my wobbly lip and vapours or collapse sobbing on the floor, my button tray askew and sadly unfilled. Taking pity on me the assistant, Jose, offered to climb the ladder and help me pick my three buttons.

What about just above those?

Meanwhile a bizarrely eclectic mix of people milled around: huge dudes wearing biker gang jackets looking for more interesting patches, little old ladies finding a button to match a much-loved pink cardy, punky young girls hunting down glitter for their skull and crossbones emblems.

Across the road at BeadCenterNY (golly, these people don't waste energy selecting a shop name) I cornered another assistant to help me pick the beads.   Until her boss spotted me as a time waster and cautioned the poor girl. I then turned to these chaps, both jewelers, to give me a second opinion.

Tomorrow I'm going to leave this trim stuff to those-who-know-and-can-decide and stick to the simple role of clueless tourist.

Lesley and Laura showing the Spring 2012 line to buyers