San Diego Unseen: An Urban Portrait
Embroidery floss: magical stuff
- Photo by Clea Hantman
I found myself in La Jolla when I was inexplicably told to pick up my glasses at an optical shop on Fay Avenue (I ordered them in Clairemont). But, once there, I was compelled to hang out for the afternoon. Loxie Rox, the impossibly named optical specialist, gave me a few shopping leads, and they weren’t but a small hop away.
I started at Echoes Too (7705 Fay Ave., 858-459-6588), a consignment shop that features designer names and things you’d find on older ladies in La Jolla—which made sense, because we were in La Jolla. But, amid the cotton-candy-pink wool pantsuits, I also found several gorgeous, fairly high-end dresses that would satisfy my unhealthy desire to buy a zillion cute summer frocks before the weather warms up. Nanette Lepore, ABS and Ana Sui—oh my! They were cheaper than new, but more expensive that I’m used to paying for used. But, still, so cute I deemed them a score.
Next door is the best-named store, ever. Le Chauvinist (7709 Fay Ave., lechauvinist.com) is a men’s consignment shop that’s been around forever. The gentleman— who may or may not be a chauvinist—who owns and runs the place is impeccably dressed and well-spoken and explained to me that he always wanted a store named The Chauvinist because it would “catch everyone’s attention.” But he figured that La Jolla demanded a touch more class and, therefore, added “Le.” There are so many hats (sizes loudly proclaimed in the brims) dress shoes, ties, dress shirts, suits, even walking sticks. Again, you have to pick through a bit, but there’s more good stuff here than next door at the ladies counterpart. I mean, what hipster doesn’t want to don a deceased La Jollan’s four-button suit? Why, they all do!
One door down is one half of Fay’s Needle Nook of La Jolla (7719 Fay Ave., needlenookoflajolla.com), a crazy emporium of all things Grandma. Seriously, one whole gigantic room is dedicated to those needlepoint patterns printed on itchy, stiff mesh—bunnies and kitties and Mary Engelbreit abounds. I peeked in and laughed. Then I passed the crazy-expensive linen shop and went into the second half of Fay’s Needle Nook of La Jolla and was floored and delighted. Every inch of wall space was covered in gorgeous, silky bright and vivid embroidery floss. Now, I don’t embroider samplers, and—holy hell—I never will. But embroidery floss is magical stuff—you can make bracelets with it and tie it into your hair and accent crafty sewing projects. It’s wonderful. And Fay’s Needle Nook has more than I’ve ever seen anywhere—gorgeous reds and blues and greens and purples and, geez, how many shades of gray (metaphorically and literally) are there?
Before venturing off Fay and, ultimately, out of La Jolla, one more sign caught my eye: Homegrown Meats (7660 Fay Ave., Suite C, homegrownmeats.com). The A-frame reads “grass fed hot dogs”—and I love me a hot dog but steer clear because, well, they’re hot dogs. But could I justify a hot dog raised humanely and fed on juicy Palomar Mountain grass? Hell, yeah! Homegrown Meats is a classic, if not cleaner-looking and slightly more modern, butcher shop, featuring only grass-fed beef and bison, plus some seductive-looking pork and sausages. The meat looked luscious, and the butcher was masculinely jovial, which is exactly what I look for in a butcher. (Side note: My brother, after a few weeks of butcher trade school decided to open up a butcher shop in San Francisco’s Castro District and call it MEAT.) The eight-pack of grass-fed dogs was $8, and I don’t know if you’ve tried to buy hot dogs lately, but some Hebrew Nationals will set you back $7, so I’m pretty great with paying a buck a dog for something I can feel slightly better about eating. I didn’t even have to leave Fay and I had a full day of surprising shopping completed. Not a bad way to spend a Wednesday afternoon.
What’s better than a cotton-candy-pink pantsuit? Write to clea@sdcitybeat.com
