ODD STORES IN NEW YORK CITY

Rotorua Morning Post, Issue 5283, 20 December 1946, Page 3

ODD STORES IN NEW YORK CITY

THEY ARE SPECIALISTS CATERESS FOR TALL, FAT AND SW E ET-TOOTiHED. * Let's go sh'opping in New York. The air's zippy and you. can step right out. You'll have to if you're coming along, for this tour covers ground. So says Barbara Scott Fis'her in the Christian Science Monitor. Broadly speaking, did you ever hear of the "Fat 'Merfls ' Shop?" Yes, really, one of their own. If you need it badly for "nobody loves a fat man" well enough to keep him in sizable c-lothes except. Sig- Klein, who definitely does. His shop at 52 Third Avenue is on' "the only street left in New Yorlc with an elevated," Mr. Klein ■boasts proudly. This indicates that Mr. Klein's is not the osual way of looking at things. To live under the deep shadow of the 'El," pounded by its jittery clatter day and night, has always been considered something of an endurance test. But to Mr. Klein, with only one elevated left in the city and this one happily passing his door, all drawbacks become assets, for his shop glories in greater prestige. Weaving sizes hetween 48 and 68 appearsln the lig'ht of a privilege, too, in the "Fat Men's Shop," while shirts with neekbands measuring 171 to 22 offer no drawbacks at all. Furthermore, this shop has .shirts. Not too many to brag ahout, Mr. Klein insists, but enough for regalar customers, and some to spare. "Regulars" are those who have taken out measurement carcls and sent them in to be kept on file, so all they have to do to re-order is to telephone or mail in a request. A Minister who visited the shop one day added his word of cheer: "If everybody was fat, there vrould be no more war." Figure this out for yourself. It meant a lot to Mr. Klein. In another neek of the woods at 3 East 48th Street, on the third floor, flourishes "The Tall Gal's Haven." In an encouraging setting which includes a couple of giratres, dresses, suits, coats and skirts which dangle from overgrown raclcs appear delicately proportioned gowns. Peg Newton who evolved this serviceable shop, eomes nobly to the rescue of girls who are inclined to draw in their neeks turtle-fashion instead of holding their heads high and sweeping proudy into a room yvith the asuranee their height implies. When you see one of these tall American beauties in one of the ordinary run-of-the-mill sizes and her mother. vainly tugging at sleeves and unwilling skirts to bring them down to a proper length, you begin to realise just what Peg Newton's serviee slands for. Greenwich Yillage Cookery. Fi-om ciothes to cookies is not too ■much of a leap, is it? Then come along to Sutters' at 403 Blecker Street for cookies. Greenwich Village would practieally collapse without Sutter's Everybody knows it and how to .get there, but for an outsider it's one of j Avenue on 11th Street the hardest places to find. Hov-cver, j if you walk west from Fifth Avenue j on 11th Street, and keep on walking | until the delicious fragrance of cookies hot out of the oven brings you to an instinetive halt, you'll know you've reached Sutter's. Thisbakev of fine French confeetions has turned out mountains of cookies in the almost 20 years he has been in this corner shop. To go there on a winter's day when everytliing outside J is cold and icy; to open the door and inch your way through the crowd into the shop's fragrant warmth xantil at last you reach a spot where you can rest your elbovvs on the counter and study t'hev array of pastries and petits l'ours and pies behind the great glass cases; to watch the nimble chefs in their tall starched caps stir up a batter, tenderly slide a whole batch of pies cut of the oven, ice a cake j or f ill yawning pastry tarts with fruits ] — all this makes you think of being 1 in your own kitchen, and of all the j good things cooks can hake. Doubtless | many Villagers, too, are reminded of j home and mother and the kinds of , kitehens that don't grow in Green- • wich Village ' i