The Silken Tent
My Letter to the World
May 2000

May 30, 2000
Tuesday

I had breakfast at Tiffany’s on Saturday. Well, it wasn’t breakfast, exactly, though it was my first meal that day. It was more like a light lunch. And it wasn’t at Tiffany’s, it was at The Cafe on the upper level of The Plaza at King of Prussia, an area just to the right of Tiffany’s between the entrances to Strawbridge’s and Neiman-Marcus.

The King of Prussia facility is three million square feet of retail space offering nine department stores, 365 specialty stores, and 35 food vendors. It’s just off Exit 24 of the Pennsylvania Turnpike on Route 202 near Philadelphia, 90 miles from my house. Although it has a drugstore and a Sears, it’s not the kind of shopping center you go to to have your
tires rotated while you pick up Pampers and Zantac.

And I wouldn’t have gone there on Saturday if I hadn’t been determined to get my daughter something from Tiffany’s for her Confirmation gift. Normally, I shop Tiffany’s by catalog. (Um, that “normally” consists of looking at the catalog four times a year for the past decade. I’ve only actually ordered something once, and Ron did that -- a heart-shaped cobalt glass paperweight I requested last Christmas. I truly did not see such an item anywhere else, and of course it came in the trademark pale blue Tiffany’s box.) Because I’d let this go until just two weeks before the event, I decided to go to the King of Prussia store in person, just in case the items were not quite what they seemed from the catalog.

I’d seen several things that might be suitable. One was a silver cross with a gold wrap at the center. Another was a figure eight that, suspended sideways on a double chain, looked like the infinity symbol. (I liked the metaphor there -- a representation that God’s love is infinite and that Lynn is forever under his protection, and I thought it more subtle and
more private a symbol than a cross.) I also considered a pendant with a round diamond set in a bezel, which seems to be a very trendy style

An item from Tiffany’s has a certain snob appeal. Plain gold crosses can be had anywhere, and a diamond in a bezel is neither unique nor unusual. Every store at my local Capital City Mall (including, probably, Wal-Mart) is showing them this year. At Kay Jewelers you can get a nice sized one set in platinum for $200 -- the same thing at Tiffany’s goes for $650.

I am well aware that, unlike a lot of people, I possess the time and the resources necessary to drive 90 miles to a legendary jeweler (even if it’s not the original venue where Audrey Hepburn did her early morning window shopping) to pay an inflated price for an item my daughter doesn’t actually need. (One might say that Tiffany’s doesn’t sell anything that anyone actually needs.) I am (I like to think) a woman of courage and a woman of peace, but also one of great good fortune.

Shopping at Tiffany’s at King of Prussia is a little different from popping over to the Zales at Colonial Park to have your add-a-bead necklace restrung. First of all, you just don’t walk in from the mall. You open a heavy glass door with the store hours painted on, just as if you were entering from Fifth Avenue.

This Tiffany’s, of course, is smaller than the one on New York -- just two rooms, as opposed to the several floors (“colored stones on 2”) in Manhattan. It has all the trappings of any store of that kind -- mostly locked glass display cases with wedding bands, watches, tableware, and other jewelry all in separate areas, and a desk with elegant chairs for
ordering one’s engraved stationery. The price tags are all turned down, and there are no “CHAIN BLOWOUT -- 30% OFF THRU MEMORIAL DAY!!” signs to be seen.

I was served by a smartly-dressed young woman named Kelly who looked as if she might as easily have been a loan officer at bank or a senator’s spokeswoman. She got out my first choice -- the silver cross with the gold wrap -- and laid it on a tray of beige velvet. I was immediately glad I’d made the trip to see this item in person. It was much larger than I’d envisioned it -- two inches long and heavier than it seemed. On Lynn, it would look like a badge, the kind of large cross a Catholic sister or a woman pastor wears. The figure eight turned out to be asymmetrical, with the double chains looking more masculine or sporty than I wanted.

The perfect thing, however, was waiting for me. A cross in the Elsa Peretti collection was petite and different without being unusual. The designer’s characteristic squashed ends (like thumbprints) made the four points catch the light and give the illusion of sparkle. In sterling silver (which Lynn prefers over yellow gold) it cost $100 less than the cross I had planned to buy.

I’d brought along a little papier-mâché box I bought two months ago at a gift shop in Lancaster. It’s about three inches across, hand painted with birds on the outside and the words “A Boxful of Wishes.” Inside there is an accordion-folded set of eight paintings depicting wishes for beauty, innocence, gentleness, abundance, fun, intimacy, and a joyous song. Kelly put the cross in a velvet pouch in the bottom of the box, placed the folded
paintings on top, and enclosed it all within the pale blue Tiffany box, and tied it with a white ribbon.

I spent the next two hours spending my “leftover” $100 on totally frivolous things: a new glass cutting board with a representation of Van Gogh’s Starry Night at The Museum Store, a single-egg poacher and some new wooden spoons at Williams-Sonoma, an adorable Tweety nightshirt for Lynn at Warner Brothers, a coffee mug painted with
realistic bluebirds at Lenox. I resolutely walked past three bookstores (all chain outlets with stores close to home). I went in to Crane and Co. stationers but I didn’t buy anything.

The Tiffany’s box is on the counter in the kitchen now. Lynn seems more intrigued by it than I thought she would be. I explained that this is a special item for a special event. She doesn’t know about the Mary Cassatt print I’ve had framed to replace the decorations that have been in her room since infancy, and the coffee table book of Mary Cassatt paintings
already wrapped and stashed under my bed. I see both those items, and the silver cross, going with her when she leaves, all too soon, all too soon.
 

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