Another Holiday Possible for Downtown Neiman Marcus

As the ‘powers that be’ contemplate what the flagship store means to its customer base, let’s hope their continual pivoting yields some small concessions for The Zodiac’s popover, the bridal salon’s Bagley Mischka gowns, and the Schiaparelli’s nose ring brooch.

Friends of Klyde Warren Park hosted a gathering to honor the closing of the iconic downtown store on March 26, a day before the news of the store potentially remaining open through year’s end broke.  

If you’ve never had a conversation with the park’s president and CEO, Kit Sawers, I recommend it. I’d offer a catchy malaphor blending her ‘in the know’ and ‘down to earth’ leadership, but somehow ‘down to know’ doesn’t quite cut it.

Instead, I’ll give a brief recount of my (initially reluctant) meander from my “newish” office on St. Paul Avenue to my old office on North Ervay Street.

I intended to stop and swap out my flats for a ballet pump and switch my fabric tote bag brimming with newsprint out for a proper handbag but decided against it, as I was already running 20 minutes late for my meet-up with friends. Instead, I took a more direct route to 1618 Main Street.

I tend to abide by my mother’s notion of “it’s better to overdress than underdress,” and the small, albeit mighty, Neiman’s event was one of those rare times I felt the second of the two. And not because there were over-the-top fashions or flashing cameras, but because the fete felt festive and formal without screaming so.

The old and the new of Neiman Marcus showed up and showed out. The event offered lagniappes, bubbly, and chocolate chip cookies warmed to in-flight perfection. Pockets of time-tested celebrity guests commingled with trendy, new influencers.

I hate to say it, but you really had to be there. Let’s just say, it had a vibe. Maybe because we all hadn’t realized we needed to be there.

They won’t do the final adieu justice, but to provide a glimpse, I’m sharing a few informal pics I snapped. And thanks to the iPhone delete button, I’ll () be spared any evidence of the few times I’ve truly felt underdressed.