Bellini in Dress

                                  Paris Fall 09: Comme des Garçons

There is a new restaurant/small hotel on Dean St. in Soho, which stands out like a pearl in pot of black beans. Shiny, white and looking slightly out of place among all the other busy, full-windowed restaurants and neon-flashing pubs, the façade of the Dean St. Townhouse looks more like a prim, 19^th century girls’ school in a much smaller town, where carriages full of long-skirted girls might suddenly appear.

And girls we were, gathered for a pre-wedding dinner for my girlfriend Mel, who also happens to be editor of a major fashion magazine here in London. If I said I didn’t worry about what I was going to wear to this dinner, then I’d be lying. I was fretting, having not put much thought or money into my wardrobe in the last few years. It's not that I don't like clothes, I do, very much, but time is short, and I rather like the idea of wearing a sort of uniform every day.

I was also tomboy as a kid, and somehow that never leaves you, and though I grew to love and appreciate fashion as a teenager, my closet is now an odd assortment of clothes that I like to wear, and clothes that I think I should be wearing. The ones I like to wear include a colorful corduroy jeans, white and other colored t-shirts, and a grey, merino wool sweater from JCrew, which I’ve had for way too long, but cannot bear to part with. I’ve patched the holes in front, and they are not noticeable. At least I don’t think they are. Regarding shoes, I am of the ‘better to be comfortable than cold’ school, and wear boots mostly, except in summer, when flip flops will do. I do have a favorite pair of brown brogues from Barneys, which I bought in the mid-90's, and which are still in great condition. Though I have a few pairs, heels terrify me. I am not good with heights.

Actually, thinking about my wardrobe, I have a lovely Comme des Garçons black, winter cape. It was bought in Paris many years ago, a present from my then, Famous Artist boyfriend, let’s call him ‘Jasper,’ around the same time that I traveled to Venice with the crazy, old NY art dealers. It was beautiful, though not very practical (sort of like my relationship with Jasper), with huge air vents below each arm. But it still looks like new, and is the only piece of ‘couture’ that I own, I think. Couture is expensive. The black cape was a fluke. Oh- I also have a Vanessa Bruno coat in light velvet pink, bought at her shop in the Marais, way before she was as popular as she is now. I’m saving it for my daughters to fight over.

For Mel’s dinner, I decided on jeans and a pink, silk Indian shirt from my favorite Tibetan hat shop on Prince St., in the other Soho, in NY. When I arrived, Mel was at the bar with a few women, mostly all in dark colors, and all very casually dressed as far as I could tell. I was relieved. What I didn’t know about their clothing couldn’t hurt me.

Mel, beautiful woman, smart girl, had ordered a bottle of prosecco for us to share at the bar as we arrived, and ‘would you mind making a Bellini for one of us?’ She asked the bartender.  A few minutes later, my drink arrived, fully decked out, in sparkling pinky-peach, with a think layer of fizz still sitting on top. I sipped. This Bellini was good. I sipped again. This Bellini had more pizzazz than any of the other Bellinis I’d sampled in the last few months, and was of the ‘enthusiastic bubbles’ and ‘luxurious edge’ variety. I loved it. It was delicious. It would rank high on my Bellini-oh-meter, and would be hard to top.

This Bellini was dressed just right.

Dean Street Townhouse
Bottle of Prosecco di Valdobbiadene Brut “Crede” 2008 Bisol    £42

Dean Street Townhouse

69-71 Dean Street

London

W1D 3SE

Tel +44(0)207434 1775