Bloomingdale’s: In & Out
In and out of Bloomingdale’s in twenty minutes — how was that possible? It was a lucky combination: I knew where I was going, and the departments that I wanted were still where they’ve been for ages. My heart did sink a bit when I found Luggage just opposite the escalator at the sixth floor. Luggage used to be downstairs, near the subway entrance. Something tells me that, had I been looking for it, I’d have looked in vain for fine china and crystal. On the sixth floor, anyway.
What I was looking for, however, was right where I expected it to be, at the other end of the floor. Kitchen gadgets and appliances. It was time for a new electric kettle. Time for a new coffee grinder. The ones that I had worked just fine, but their plastic sheathing was depressingly grungy. I know that you can clean plastic with ammonia — but then I looked inside the electric kettle. Even with New York’s wonderful soft water! And as for the coffee grinder! Enough is enough. Time to recycle.
I didn’t mean to buy new steak knives at Bloomingdale’s. I’d had my eye on a set of staghorn knives from Scully & Scully. Appraising the offerings from Henkel, however, I did a rethink. The staghorn handles are, to put it mildly, gamy, and some diners might find them upsetting, especially as we march into a greener tomorrow. Also they are (necessarily) made with glue, and the glue (inevitably) wears out. That’s what happened to the staghorn knives that I’ve been limping along with for about ten years. The Henkel knives were pricier, but — deal breaker! — they could be sharpened on the Chef’s Choice thingy.
I also needed gloves. Kathleen said, “Wait until Christmas, when everything’s on sale.” But why would Bloomingdale’s — even Bloomingdale’s — put men’s dress gloves on sale in the middle of the holiday season, when they’re being lost right and left? Exactly. I bought two pairs anyway. Although I’m aware of the school of character appraisal that is based on shoes, I myself judge people by their gloves.