Correspondent Lou Young on how he gets it done.
25 years living on the Sound Shore and I swear by my annual ritual for getting in the holiday shopping spirit. It’s a simple midday train trip where Metro North deposits me within walking distance of some of the quirkiest merchandise imaginable.
Give it a try. There are only three stops on my initial yearly holiday foray: Grand Central Terminal, The Holiday shops at Bryant Park, and the gift shop at the New York Public Library.
It does the trick every year as I arrive in the city like a king amid twinkling lights and garland, framing a marble surfaced vista of shoppers, commuters, and tourists crisscrossing that magnificent room. Has anyone ever entered Grand Central without at least glancing at the celestial map soaring overhead? Impossible. And its Christmas! The spirit approaches.
My first destination, though, is not on the main concourse, but closer to the street, in the old waiting room. The Holiday Fair at Grand Central is a glitzy warren of shop stalls featuring items you simply will not find at the mall.
This year something called New York Slab catches my eye: amazing cuts of natural wood polished into cutting boards and tabletops. Then the smell of perfumed soaps wafts by, off a dizzying selection of shapes and varieties, each one screaming “stocking stuffer!” “Take your time here” I tell myself, in an stall filled entirely with glass tree ornaments. Over there, I spend some more moments with a display of gold leaf photographic prints framed and unframed. There’s artwork done through patina on copper that draws me back for a second look. And scarves of seemingly unique individual design. Monogramed haberdashery. Whimsical jewelry. I’ve already lost track of how long I’ve been in the place.
In years past I’d purchased art covered shoulder bags at Grand Central, and a leather backpack that still gets compliments. But this year, other merchants have taken the spots of those sellers. The surprise is nice, but I’m a little disappointed because it’s fun to see something unusual and familiar at the same time, to offer another shopper a recommendation. (This is a trip that is ostensibly for gifts, but on occasion I have been the recipient as well as the giver.)
Sometimes I buy on this first visit, other times I wait, calling this outing strictly “a reconnaissance mission.” I’ve noticed that the charm of some items can fade rapidly once I step away from the magic of the Holiday Fair, but others pieces start to gnaw at the impulse to purchase while I’m still on the way home.
Once finished at the Holiday Fair, I’m out the door onto 42nd Street, it’s a short walk to Bryant Park and the merchant stalls surrounding the ice rink and Christmas Tree there. These shops seem more mass market with an appeal to individual indulgences. For instance, there’s a hot sauce store that sells nothing but different varieties of liquid fire. A nearby shop called “The Truffleist” sucked me in few holidays ago when I was particularly transfixed by that tasty mushroom. This year the spell is broken, and I almost pity a young woman purchasing a variety of jars filled with dark, earthy substances. I think, “You will discover that you can have too many truffles.”
This year, the maple syrup shop is easier for me to understand; Chopstick art, not so much. Wandering I see various boutiques and niche clothiers sprinkled through the holiday village: Animal prints, cat themes, ethnic offerings, pigeon art. More jewelry and soap; The commonplace selling side-by-side with the strange.
That might be enough for some, but on the way back to Grand Central it’s not much effort to mount the steps between the lions on Fifth Avenue and drop in at the New York Public Library gift shop. Two years ago I wandered in expecting nothing and ended up buying something for everyone on my list. That’s not something that’ll work every year but it did then.
Even if you’re not buying, its fun to thumb through vintage titles, unusual prints, and children’s books; to examine jewelry and clothing that impresses even after what I’ve already seen today. I think, “Would that be a good choice?” “Check to see if they’ve read it,” I tell myself. “Buy this one now for her, but wait on that other one for him. Think about it. There’s time to return.”
The good news it I’ve broken the interia.
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