It’s Thanksgiving night and the holiday is winding down. At least for me, that is. But in a few hours, some of you, armed with a travel mug full of coffee, will be headed out to the malls for Black Friday. This shopping frenzy makes me nostalgic for “The Basement” so here is a re-post from February 2016.
Let’s meet at The Basement on Saturday.
Wanna go down to The Basement after work?
These phrases were on the lips of Bostonian women of all ages. That’s what we called it. The Basement.
I am, of course, referring to Filene’s Basement, located on two floors beneath the art deco flagship Filene’s department store and cornerstone of Boston’s Downtown Crossing.
The Basement folklore was plentiful. The Running of the Brides, so named for its resemblance to Pamplona’s Running of the Bulls, turned ordinarily polite young women into fierce competitors the moment The Basement doors opened, as they fought over designer bridal gowns offered at a fraction of their original prices. And men would actually stand in line waiting for The Basement to open on the mornings of the semi-annual men’s suit sale. But the outrageous bargains were only part of it. A trip to The Basement could cheer you up on a rainy day. It was as loud, as crowded, and as chaotic as Times Square on New Year’s Eve. The Basement was pure joy.
The three-dollar Christian Dior bras I pulled from the depths of the lingerie bins were mine for the taking. And the shoes! I thought nothing of squeezing into incredibly cheap Ferragamos and Via Spigas that were only a-half size too small. There were no dressing rooms in The Basement so I’d angle for a spot near a mirror then strip down to the Danskin leotard I’d worn under my clothes. Some women were so intent on getting a bargain that they tried on their finds right over their clothes. Others, caring nothing about modesty, were on full display in their bras and slips as they tried on a pile of potential purchases. It was divine pandemonium.
In 2007, Filene’s Basement closed its doors for good and shopping has never been quite the same. I’ll always miss the tradition and the spectacle that was The Basement.
ahhh Filenes Basement, how I missed it. shopping experince has never the same since!
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Thanksgiving evening I was sick in bed. My family arrived, stood at the door of my bedroom, waved, blew kisses and left with my husband to go out to dinner. After they had eaten, my youngest son and his son said they had to leave to make Black Friday at the mall. MY SON AND HIS SON! He called me the nest day to tell me he had gotten the greatest pair of golf shoes he ever had. My daughters and daughters-in-law. Nah! Charlie said they just sat sipping champagne. Happy Thanksgiving, honey. Love ya,
Sheila
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