Once upon a time, Billy Reid had a warehouse in Exposition Park. Once a year (or was it twice?), there was held a most glorious sale at that warehouse — a sale that, frankly, was the only way I was ever going to buy Billy Reid. You know, like a $600 blazer for $100. I got a $1,000 suit for, if memory serves, about $200. I own a number of pieces by Billy Reid. Each one came from that warehouse sale.
Alas, the warehouse moved to some backward state like Tennessee. Gone. My heart was broken. And it is broken anew, just about every week it seems. The Billy Reid brass has gotten ahold of my e-mail address. They keep inviting me to this or that event at the NorthPark store. “Join us at the Fall Made to Measure Event, September 21 and 22, featuring new fabrics selected by Billy Himself and celebrating the launch of the the new Made to Measure program.” Or: “Stop by for our fall Launch Party this Thursday night, September 17. Browse our new fall arrivals, have some fried catfish courtesy of Topcat, and groove to some tunes from Southern Drive. Plus, engage in casual sex with female pro beach volleyball players!” (I might have made up that last part.)
Listen to me, Billy Reid: stop it! I beg you! I can’t afford your sumptuous fabrics and smart styling at full price! I am a humble, ink-stained wretch, not some trust-fund layabout!
