Plato Has Designs On You

Overheard at Macy's: "I can't afford designer clothes." Oh, really? Of course you can and it all began about 2500 years ago in the Greek philosopher Plato's mind.

He thought that somewhere, out there in the inexplicable ether there were basic patterns for all of our material items. A well-remembered example from Philosophy 101 was that of a table. There exists the ideal pattern of a table from which all existent tables derive their basic shapes. We can extrapolate from that idea and apply the concept to wearing apparel - trousers, for instance.

Ethereal trousers are one piece at the waistline but are divided at the crotch into a long legged cover for each leg. Start with that Platonic perfect pair and add fabric. Bolts of cloth do not of themselves turn into trousers, dresses, coats, and so on. There must be a person who thinks how to do that and then sees to it that it is done: a designer.

The pants can be made in various sizes and forms by the thousands. Someone must design them no matter how much or how little they cost. Even if you buy them at a discount store, you are buying an item designed by someone. Whether you pay less than twenty dollars or as much or more than a thousand dollars, you will be wearing "designer clothes".

A Christmas Soliloquy

soliloquy the act of speaking aloud to oneself

It is blessedly quiet and peaceful in my home today. It celebrates the day an eagerly anticipated child was born under unusual circumstances. I am alone with my thoughts, but not lonesome.

I have spent Christmas Day alone for a number of years. Our family gathering and gift exchange takes place on Christmas Eve. It is a joyous occasion, as it should be. The family personnel changes from time to time through misfortunes, but most of the time there are happy events such as marriages, commitments, and births. Christmas Eve is my special time with as many of my loved ones who can be with me then.

During the hectic planning and arranging - not to mention the stress! - leading up seemingly endlessly to Christmas itself, there is little time or inclination to consider the reason for the coming holiday. On the surface it appears to be for businesses of all sorts to make more money than was made the year before. Or so it seems.

And so I love my Christmas Day for its calm time of joys remembered from times past and time present. A child is born! How lovely a gift!

Christmases Three

Christmas Eve 1925 - Sidney, New York

A three-year-old is at a window, looking up into the night sky, watching for Santa. Her father suggests that he and she go for a ride in their new Franklin, the better to look for Santa. The child has a secret wish so sincere that she will not share it. She wants a little Victorola all her own and she knows that Santa will grant that wish. Mother will stay home affixing small candles to their Christmas tree. Outdoors, there is no sign of Santa, so he must have come invisibly, certainly. Indoors, the tree is beautiful. Dozens of candles are reflected in multicolored glass baubles. On the sofa there is a Teddy Bear, all brown plush fur, almost as large as the child. His eyes are bright and his arms are extended to her for a hug. No time for a hug. The search is on for the little Victorola she knows must be hidden somewhere. Eventually she realizes there is no Victorola and is greatly disappointed. There is only Teddy.

Christmas Eve 1930 - Chicago, Illinois

The little girl, now eight years old, has had baby dolls given her the last few Christmases. None of the dolls are particularly interesting - the paper dolls she has created are her favorite playthings. She would still like to have her own Victorola, but that wish will soon be forgotten. Teddy Bear still sits, lonely. This Christmas Eve she is given a new doll: Patsy Ann, who is so much like the little girl herself that she feels she has found a friend. There is an old superstition that at midnight on Christmas Eve toys will come alive. Patsy Ann and Teddy Bear are much the same size. The child places them side by side on the sofa and positions them in a certain way so that she can tell on Christmas morning if they have moved. The two toys have found each other and will never again be far apart.

Christmas Eve 2006 - Kalamazoo, Michigan

A few years ago, after the death of her mother, the little girl now grown old, found Patsy Ann in pieces which had been carefully placed by her mother in a shoebox for safe keeping. Patsy Ann needed only a short stay at a Doll Hospital to be put together good as new except for a few worn places on her arms and hands. Teddy Bear had always been nearby and had been repaired with a patch on one arm. His fur is thin in places and he has lost his "voice" but he is still huggable and his eyes still twinkle. Patsy Ann has acquired a new wardrobe, in keeping with the times. Teddy Bear has his own chair. The two are always together - and are beloved.

This is how they look today!



Merry Christmas, and may all of you have precious memories of toys once beloved.

Carson's and The Perfect Bedspread

Carson, Pirie, Scott and Company Building
One South State Street, Chicago, Illinois
Architect: Louis H. Sullivan (1862 - 1924)

The lower two stories of the building are a visual testimony, wrought in ornamental cast iron, to the architectural genius of Sullivan. Those who shopped in Chicago's Loop in the 30s and 40s remember the building well, in particular the entrance to the store at its northwest corner. "Meet you at Carson's" was a favorite invitation that still lingers in the minds of many. It was a pleasure to wait for a friend while surrounded by intricate ornamentation and informed of the time by a clock incorporated in the design.

The building still stands as a landmark, designated as such in 1970. Lately some upsetting news has come to those who remember and admire the store, and who have traveled often to shop in the Loop even though trendier merchants can be found elsewhere. In 1976, having purchased a new bedroom suite, it was necessary to look for the perfect bedspread. The search began with a train ride to the Loop and Carson's and ended with the purchase of The Perfect Bedspread - and a train ride home.

The building is still standing, studied by students and admirers of Sullivan's architecture. Unfortunately, it has been reported by a lifelong Chicagoan that its cast iron entryway is being supported, in part by two-by-fours - and that the store is dark.
The clock disappeared years ago. It is to be hoped that restoration and preservation of the building will take place soon.

It would be shameful if The Perfect Bedspread, still in almost pristine condition after all these years of daily use, would outlast the cast iron glories of the Carson, Pirie, Scott and Company Building.