Because I treat department stores like museums, my baby has so far seen more Marni than Matisse, more Prada than Picasso, and more Lanvin than Léger. Our time in New York offered a not-entirely-yet-balanced mix of the above (thanks, Poiret at the Met!). But I'll gradually right that wrong by kicking up the fine art museum-going a notch to make gawking at unattainable art more edifying, I promise.
One afternoon, we braved the posses of Tory Burch flats-wearin' bitches and charged into the ultimate temple, the best venue to enjoy fashion as a spectator and sociological sport. And like museums, you can eat there, too.
Bergdorf's now boasts its own Kelly Wearstler-designed dining room where the old ladies are pleased as punch that some things they liked decades ago are hip again, and the young 'uns can get their (kind of) ironic retro crusty groove on.
BG on the seventh floor is my least favorite of the KWID spaces. I'd much rather look out at the views of Central Park laid out like a carpet below than the Disney Haunted Mansion-like echo chamber creating chairs, or the Sputnik chandeliers (yawn), or the speckled mirrors that my grandparents and all their friends had in their Dallas houses circa 1970. And Chinoiserie-inspired roundels emblazoned on the window valences echo that fucking Tory B. medallion. But I gotta hand it to her -- Kelly has a uncannily prescient sense of what the socialites want.
OK, so get to the food already, you groan. I've procrastinated because there's not a whole lot to say. Eileen and I both went for salads, since, well, that's the obvious choice with this Wexler-treated crowd. Our keesters were occupying some pricey Manhattan real estate, which means the "rent" is steep, and we overpaid for a piles of iceberg and romaine lettuce, deviled eggs, ham slices, and a couple types of not terribly special cheeses. Yet at $25, the BG salad is among the cheapest -- I mean most modest -- priced items in the whole store. Plus it comes with a couple of complimentary macaroons with your check.
Should you like your salads very light on the dressing, there's no need to make a special request at BG. Those dishes are as bare as a stick thin figure in a Cavalli gown, which is why they can offer potentially super fattening thousand island on the Gotham salad. But if you want your stuff a little heavier or fuller they can accommodate, just like those other Upper East Side professionals.