Love Is Never Saying, ‘I Hate Your Outfit’
Valentine’s Day ranks right up there with New Year’s Eve as a holiday easily wrecked by pressure and inflated expectations.
Only the least cynical could fail to recognize the annual observance of romantic feelings, or whatever it is, as the highly lucrative brainchild of greedy greeting-card companies. Small wonder that one of our friends wears black in protest on hearts and flowers day. (She’s very much in requited love--no sour grapes there.)
“I hate Valentine’s Day,” Emanuel Ungaro said. Appearing at Neiman Marcus with his spring ready-to-wear collection on Monday, the Parisian designer known for romantic, feminine clothes seemed puzzled that Americans celebrate love only once a year. He admitted that his life and work have been enriched by his 7 1/2-year marriage to a beautiful Italian woman whom he tries to appreciate daily. “I respect her and I never judge,” Ungaro said. “She never asks me how to dress. If I don’t like what she’s wearing, I might ask, ‘Why did you choose that?’ But I won’t pressure her to change.”
How romantic.
Giving In: Having established our bah-humbug credentials vis-a-vis the year’s sweetest day, we’re still prepared to assist those who believe ignoring the occasion would result in the relationship equivalent of thermonuclear war. Here’s a sampling of gift items, from the frivolous to the sensible.
Since bacteria buildup on the tongue has recently been identified as a major cause of bad breath, a surgical steel tongue scraper is a handy device for any lover. At $29, it’s one of the most popular items in the SelfCare catalog ([800] 345-3371) and comes with a money-back guarantee.
Something light and lacy from the Marilyn Monroe lingerie collection at Macy’s would be a more conventional present. Extensive consumer research was conducted to ensure that the sweetly nostalgic bras, panties and sleepwear reflected M. M.’s image, defined by fans as “vulnerable, sensuous, feminine, glamorous, soft.” Maybe the original Material Girl didn’t own a leopard-spotted bra and matching robe, but the lace-trimmed lovelies are convincing as something she could have worn.
For women whose boudoir style is more Lucille Ball than Monroe, the Diane Merrick boutique on Melrose Avenue in West Hollywood has pink or mint chenille robes ($110) covered with candy-colored hearts.
Read It and Weep: “Unmentionables, A Brief History of Underwear” by Elaine Benson and John Esten (Simon & Schuster, 1996) and “Handbook of Lingerie: A Man’s Guide to Choosing Lingerie for the Woman in His Life” by Andrew Wilson (Hebden Bridge Publishing, 1996) offer an armchair lingerie experience for the shy or lonely.
The latter book is practical, defining such mysterious garments as the teddy and arming the reader with tips for a successful shopping expedition.
The former, sublimely illustrated, describes the social history and psychological underpinnings of our underpinnings. With anthropological curiosity, the authors explore such burning questions as why women didn’t wear underpants till the middle of the 19th century (it was too difficult to maneuver in outhouses) and exactly what Scotsmen wear under their kilts. (We figured they had to wear something; it’s drafty on those moors.)
For Him: Does your relationship run hot and cold? Kenneth Cole cuff links shaped like classic porcelain sink fixtures feature temperature-appropriate wording. They’re $45 at most Macy’s stores.
