Tag Archives: Consignment Stores

Clodhoppers to Chanel:a journey in shoes

I have horrible feet. Really ugly, wide, hard-to-fit feet that at any given time are plastered with at least one Bandaid and a myriad of shoe-related injuries. My feet are clearly not meant to be trapped in shoes; either that, or I’m not meant to walk as far as I do each day in footwear.

I saw a guy on television last week who rarely wears shoes. Dubbed the “barefoot professor” by his students, Daniel Howell has made a career – and written The Barefoot Book: 50 Good Reasons to Kick Off Your Shoes – about his barefoot endeavours. An Associate Professor of Biology at Liberty University, where he teaches Human Anatomy & Physiology, Howell has long hiked and run barefoot and decided to extend it to the rest of his life out of comfort and curiosity.

He said he was even removed from an airplane en route to New York because he did not have on shoes: he had to go to Old Navy for flip flops before they would let him back on the plane. It seems odd that in this post shoe-bomber age, with shoe removal and pat-downs the standard for air travel, a shoeless man is viewed as a threat. But I digress.

Given access to unrealistically clean streets and spotless floors, I may go barefoot too. It’s no surprise then that I am not a shoe person. Handbags, YES, but shoes, not so much.

I’ve marveled but never embraced the passion my friends have for their shoes; the Carrie Bradshaw-esque love affair with sky-high, feather and bauble-adorned shoes queued on closet shelves. Love fashion as I do, I haven’t braved a Manolo Blahnik sale or a Christian Louboutin frenzy because skinny shoes with pointy toes just aren’t an option for me. Or so I thought until I wandered recently into a newish consignment store m.a.e. in Park Slope.

The owner, a self-proclaimed “shoe girl” with a predilection for Manolos and a size 10 foot, opened a whole new world of shoes to me. She waved off protests that my feet were too wide for pretty little shoes and sat me down with a stack of beauties in swag of different sizes until I found pairs that fit and looked fabulous. Because of the long pointy toes, I had to go up a size or so, but many of the shoes actually worked.

My spirits lifted: I couldn’t believe that for all these years I’ve dwelled on horrid childhood experiences as confirmation that gnarly, wide feet should be hidden in Doc Marten’s and the like.

my foot = a pasty

I recall someone close to me (you know who you are) likening my feet to pasties, a broad semi-circle pastry stuffed with meat and vegetables (see right), and calling the shoes of my youth clodhoppers!

I strutted out of m.a.e. with a dainty pair of vintage Chanel black + white kitten heels, and a new confidence about shoe shopping. I’m still not quite ready for the Louboutin sale, but at least now I will bother to keep on trying shoes to see what works.

m.a.e. isn’t just about shoes; there are a couple of racks of designer-label clothes and some handbags too, but the shoe selection sets the place apart from other neighborhood consignment stores. Beacon’s Closet it is not. There is a definite bent towards Manolo Blahnik, either gently or barely worn, and at a fraction of their retail prices. The last time I stopped by there were vintage Gucci loafers and pumps as well as plenty of Prada, and some Chanel and Ferragamo.

m.a.e. is at 453 7th Avenue, between 15th and 16th streets in Park Slope, 718.788.7070.

Shopping Style in Reverse

You know that feeling when you walk into a room and someone gives your outfit the once over; there are women skilled at casting an eye from head to toe in a nanosecond without so much as tilting their head. I have a relative with that skill. It’s irksome.

Well, you can get that very same feeling in stores all over the city, as I did this week when I set out to sell some long neglected pieces of clothing. For anyone not familiar with the concept, there are stores staffed with skinny, twenty-something hipsters that will pick over your gently-worn clothes, trawling for current styles or hot labels.

For what they deign to keep, the seller gets a percentage of the price tag they will resell it at, or can take a bigger percentage in credit to spend in the store. For instance, Beacon’s Closet, with locations in Brooklyn’s Williamsburg and Park Slope, will pay exactly 35% cash, or 55% store credit, of the price tag that they in turn put on your clothes and accessories. Unlike a consignment shop, where you have to wait for your items to be sold, stores like Beacon’s give you cash or a credit voucher on the spot. It’s a great way, albeit potentially demoralizing, to get something back for clothes that you don’t wear anymore, but are that little bit too good for the donation bin.

Beacon’s Closet and Buffalo Exchange are the two where I have tried my luck in the past. And that’s where I traipsed this week, bulging bag in hand. Like many things in fashion, it’s a lottery. I’ve sold armloads of H&M and Forever 21 tees and tunics, while  Dolce & Gabbana dresses and even up-and-coming Asian designers were rejected at the same time. It’s a crap shoot to predict what they are looking for on any given day.

So I hit Buffalo Exchange in the East Village first. They were pretty full-up, the girl said, but after some back and forth they decided on a Clu  jersey and cotton bubble dress, which I had actually bought a couple of seasons earlier at rival store. The staff at Buffalo Exchange are friendly and pleasant. Even when the girl rips through your fashion history in seconds, she does so nicely.

Which takes me to my next stop, Beacon’s Closet on Fifth Avenue in Park Slope. I have a love-hate relationship with this place. As annoyed as I am most times I sell things there, I keep going back. I feel like I almost have their formula down; there is certain “look” in everything they accept and then resell, and it’s generally not a look I dabble in. This particular day I did well though, selling a Tim O’Connor halter neck top with ruffles down the front, a very 80s black Betsey Johnson tiered skirt, a sequined skirt I bought a decade ago and never wore and a nude leather pencil skirt by the Australian brand David Lawrence. Curiously, both stores rejected a Paul and Joe silk slip dress. That one’s too good for the scrap heap and came home with me.

So, was it worth the schlepping a bag on the subway and enduring the judgments of girls barely beyond their teens? Sure. And what’s more, I didn’t feel bad acquiring a couple of new things with the earnings. A blue and white striped knit blazer-style cardigan from A.Cheng in Park Slope and the Kenneth Jay Lane diamante embellished leather cuff from Outnet, which I have had my eye on for ages.

New Purchase

Outnet, by the way, is offering free shipping though May 19 to everyone who signed up for their $1 sale, as a way of apologizing for the craziness of the online birthday fiasco.

Now, my drawers are tidy. I have a couple of new pieces and my wallet is a little better padded. Not bad for a week’s work.