Caryn’s Coast & Koi Kimono Kiosk

Several years ago I found some delightful shoes, slippers actually, in a shop-and-spa on Magazine Street. They were made of fabric and trims, with very pointed toes. Charming. And excruciating. I bought two pair.

In the intervening years I have followed the website of the Cape Townian creator and become more interested in her kimonos. In anticipation of our trip to South Africa I made an appointment.

Given the inconvenience of my hospitalization for broken elbows, the shortness of Caryn’s hours, and the brevity of our time in Cape Town, it was imperative that the Monday at 9:45 appointment be kept. But I was firmly ensconced in Christian Bernard Hospital. The solution was clearly to send my niece Maggie, our friend Amy Whitaker, and Sacha, our guide, to model for me. They did so agreeably, and with flair since that is a prerequisite for modeling kimonos. It’s akin to the difference, as Landon, the Southern commentator on Tik-Tok, declares is the distinction between wearing a housecoat and a kaftan. It’s all in the fabric and your own finesse. 

The difficulty in shopping on FaceTime was that when I’d see something interesting and say “go right” the camera’s mirror image meant me to specify left. And patterns did blend together to look like solid colors when they weren’t. We struggled, but prevailed. I identified a kimono I thought was coral and said I wanted it. Sacha, a former surfer and rugged outdoor guy, rocked a shorter jacket that I’d have snatched up, but the appliqué on the back was of an outback cowboy — not exactly me.

There was, of course, the issue of where I’d sashay out in such garments. Trying on clothes with a friend a decade or so ago, she said “where will you wear it since you’ve already been to the prom?” Good question. I did know that any find at Coast & Koi would be right at home in my New Orleans costume closet. And maybe I should step up my theater and symphony going activities so utilizing them would be an option.

Meanwhile, back at Christian Barnard I was scrambling to fly the coop. I threw my belongings together, negotiated for a later time for my cast to be created, was picked up by Sacha and headed to Coast and Koi. I arrived in what was actually a superfluous wheelchair, trying to look as dignified and compos mentis as possible and dove into Caryn’s trove of treasures. Brilliant marketer that she is, in the interim she had changed the panel on the back of Sacha’s jacket to a swim-capped, long-necked sunbather. Closer to a Christie-of-long-ago, though a Queen Mum image might match me better now. I bought the garment. 

Caryn also had her friend Gordon, a bead merchant, to show me his wears. A lovely brown and coral necklace to go with the longer kimono was just the thing. With his eccentric get-up and personality he reminded me of the late Ryan Gainey, a “plantsman” by his own description, who reveled in unusual attire. Actually, Gordon struck me as having a better disposition than Ryan though. And he came bearing culinary treats as well as jewels.

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The visit and spending spree was great fun. In retrospect I am thinking about the evolution of my taste over the years. Mother insisted that traditional, classic, fitted clothing looked best on me. It suited her. Admittedly, in those days I had some beautiful clothes, but they seemed to wear me, rather than express me. I was very compliant, and insecure, and I acquiesced to her expectations. I even recall, when I had a line of stationary in my late 20’s and early 30’s and was showing at buyers’ showrooms across the country being told I was too, ummm, bland (?) to push my wares.

I was shocked in the 80’s when a Trinity member had a class on our individual fashion styles and I was told I should be an exotic. Me? No way, I’m a classic.

I think the evolution has been slow. The price tag on my dresses has decreased a lot since Daddy died (in 1972 for heaven’s sake). And maybe I’ve been a little more freed up to venture closer to humorous, or borderline tacky or outrageous. (I have NOT however veered into immodest!) I’m not sure how it’s happened, but I am aware that what’s on my outside, as well as what’s within has grown in confidence and an unfettered sense of humor since those earlier, more self-conscious, scared of others’ judgement days. It feels liberating.

Alas, my love of vintage jewelry which looks fun and creative when worn by a young woman has lost its irony. Se la vie.