Bi-Weekly Salon Appointment (Sunday Edition)

Today, while I was aimlessly wandering around the LES ogling the girls in their jeggings, I received a "What up?" text from Matt. It seems he was also in the LES, but he was waiting for his bi-weekly hair-cutting salon appointment. His hairdresser was backed up, so Matt had some time to kill. After passing each other on the sidewalk three times, we grabbed some Spanish lattes and headed over to Self Edge.

Now I'm perfectly happy with my $40 Made-In-Mexico Levi's, but it's always nice to pretend to be a potential customer in a fancy Selvedge Denim Store. This is definitely where the other other-half shop. Most of the jeans were in the $300-and-up range. That's way beyond what I'm willing to spend on a single pair of dungarees. This is the kinda place with no cash register. They sit the customer down in an antique chair on the business end of a heavy wooden desk, (kinda like they're applying for a loan) and in hushed-tones, the sales agent presents the final bill. I actually never heard anyone say anything. Except of course for Matt and I, who were squawking about how great California is, while we unfolded all the $500 work shirts and pushed aside actual customers from the only mirror to get a look at ourselves in denim jackets we had no intentions of purchasing.

Then we ran into Allen, Matt's friend who actually used to work at Self Edge. He's since moved on to a bigger and better job in the Clothing Industry, but Self Edge still occasionally employs Allen because no one else knows how to operate the chainstitching machine. Apparently, fancy selvedge shops custom hem all the jeans to each customer. Allen told us that he was the only one that bothered to ask the Dominicans that previously used the machine to teach him the in-and-outs. It's not as easy as it sounds. Allen's hands moved only with deliberate and necessary motions. He says it makes him feel better about not being able to wrench on cars since moving from Cali.

Saturday, I spent all day shaving and filling my new swingarm frame at Walter's shop. I love Walter. He let's me use up all his Argon and grinding discs, and doesn't yell at me or anything. Here he is doing what he does best: Scaring Chinese families.