It was 5:30 p.m. on a frigid December 23rd in NYC, the eve of my holiday break after a tough few weeks of scrambling to meet deadlines. All I wanted to do was get home to Connecticut so I almost didn’t answer the phone (after months of consoling my depressed retailer friends, it was getting harder to come up with words of encouragement…) But I did answer the phone and just couldn’t say no to the ever effusive Elliot Rabin of Peter Elliot who reminded me that I’d promised to stop by his store. Exhausted, I jumped on a Madison Avenue bus and headed up to 81st Street. In inviting me there, he’d insisted that nothing in his store was on sale and that business was jumping. I didn’t for a second believe him but I went anyway.

The store was jumping. Nothing was on sale. In the window, a fabulous revolving Christmas tree lured in passersby who were welcomed at the door with the spicy aroma of hot apple cider and cookies. A handsome man was trying on a gorgeous fur-lined coat for tens of thousands of dollars (his size was sold out but he special-ordered it). Another was buying a fabulous hand-crafted reversible blanket: one side was a patchwork of vintage silk tie fabrics, the other was pure cashmere. There were interesting plaid sportcoats, wonderful displays of colorful shirts and ties, home-made Christmas baked goods, vibrant cashmere socks, unusual cufflinks. Much of the stuff was exclusive to Peter Elliot, American-made and Italian, and all of it very special.

Above: Me and a shopper in our new fedoras.

And everywhere, there was Elliot Rabin: schmoozing with customers, telling risqué jokes, consulting about wardrobes, suggesting gifts, discussing politics, proposing job options for newly-unemployed investment bankers. One lovely female customer (pictured at left) offered to stitch Rabin’s sweater, which was unraveling a bit at the shoulder. On the spot, she pulled out a special crochet tool and, recognizing her talent, Rabin commissioned some hand-knit sweaters for fall ’09. He placed a wool felt fedora (Scala, by Dorfman Pacific) on my head and two minutes later, a customer I greeted purchased that same fedora. Despite the tenuous economy, there was magic in the store that night: people were joking, laughing, connecting, spending money and having fun!

The moral of the story as we move into 2009, a year when we’ll all be working harder than ever to do what will surely be less business: It won’t be easy. But it still can be fun!