L. and I celebrated our six-month anniversary yesterday with supper out at Abbiocco. In anticipation of this I realized that, what with L. being a striking clothes horse and all, with my wardrobe I would, by compare, appear not-up-to-standard, which is to say schlubby.
Urgent intervention was required.
In recent years Charlottetown has not been blessed with men’s clothing shops; with the opening of Eastwood Avenue in the Confederation Court Mall in 2020, though, there was a corner-turn: an independent shop selling only menswear, and menswear, to boot, that falls in a comfortable space north of sk8erwear and well-south of Denver Hayes:
Named after the street I grew up on in England, EAM brings together European/British fashion and their North American counterparts. Offering men’s apparel that isn’t widely available on the East coast of Canada, both in brands and styles, Eastwood Ave. Menswear will provide an alternative to the more frequent haberdashery style of men’s apparel shops. We’ll continue to search for opportunites to expand our brand roster with brands that represent the same quality, attention to detail and new ideas that we already offer.
The problem with Eastwood Avenue—and the reason I’d never been in—was that its space in the mall was claustrophobic, simply too tiny to allow comfortable browsing, even if it did seem to have an intriguing mix of clothes.
But Eastwood Avenue has moved out of the mall, down Queen Street to the space formerly occupied by ColourBlind. And the difference is transformational: gone is the cave-like cramp, replaced by light and space.
So, in need to a wardrobe-injection, that’s where I headed.
I am not a comfortable shopper, and, as Olivia will attest, my fashion sense has long rested in the neighbourhood of Fred MacMurray in My Three Sons. But I was determined to break the mould, so I took my time, browsed different racks, and, after 30 minutes and some helpful guidance from Steve, the personable owner, I departed with a T-shirt from Jungmaven, pants from Albam, and a rain jacket from Stutterheim (there wasn’t rain in the forecast, but the jacket was 50% off, and I liked the cut of its jib).
When I dressed for supper and looked at myself I didn’t recognize myself, so differently-clothed was I. But I settled into it, and feel happy to have departed the 1955 fashion orbit.
Supper at Abbiocco was notable for two things: a fantastic chocolate tart for dessert, and what amounts to the kindest request to allow our table to be turned that I can possibly imagine.
And the company of a my engaging partner of six months,