Every year, Sally's angel spreads her wings in the brightly illuminated window of an upscale boutique downtown, and there she stays until January sales begin. She was created years ago by an acquaintance who manages the enterprise in question and is also a gifted and imaginative window designer by trade. The main part of the figure is an old department store mannequin. The wings are stiffened netting on a wicker framework, and the scallops on the wings are sewn in gold thread.
I always watch for the angel's appearance as a harbinger of retail initiatives here, but I've never been able to take a decent photo because of the narrow, deep and very recessed window, the angle and spread of the halogen pot lights in the shop, the unusual way daylight seems to strike the glass out front at any time of day. Here she is anyway, in all her winged, gilded and poinsettia bedecked glory. If you look closely, you can see the boutique's name spelled out (backwards of course) on the right side of the photo.The tiny dancing white disks in the photo are snow.
Sally's angel is classically beautiful and attired in a flowing Fortuny-ish gown, but she lacks expression, and she doesn't seem happy to be spending yet another holiday interval (her eleventh tour of duty, I think) artfully posed in a boutique window to entice holiday shoppers inside. As tedious as the whole exercise may be, she does her thing faithfully and without complaint for a month or two before being wrapped up in a sheet and put away in the back room until next Christmas rolls around. Perhaps I will be able to talk Sally into painting a smile on the lady's face one of these years.
As bored as the angelic lady is, I shall be sad to see her go next month, replaced by a display with towering rubber palm trees and little papier-mâché boats extolling the pleasures of winter Caribbean cruises, diaphanous caftans and funky bathing suits in neon colors. By contrast, here is red and white and gold in a perfect seasonal arrangement.
December 8, 2013
resting easy in winter