The Store Is the Point

On shopping IRL, women dressing for each other, and why being in the room still matters.

Last week I went to my friend (and Brimfield PIC) Christene Barberich’s vintage sale — she’s the genius behind A Tiny Apartment, and if you’re not already subscribed, fix that mediately — and I want to tell you what it felt like because it wasn’t just a sale.

A silly photo but fun

In her natural habitat

Fun was had! Big fun.

It was a party. It was a reunion. It was a room full of women who got dressed for each other, and if you’ve never experienced that specific electricity, you should.

The male gaze was nowhere. Not absent as in ignored — absent as in it simply didn’t occur to anyone. Women were pulling things off racks and holding them up and cheering each other on, helping zip, opining on fit, and encouraging the reach. That’s you. That was made for you. Try the other one too.

There’s a generosity that shows up when women shop together without performing, and it is one of the most purely joyful things I know.

It’s not just the absence of an audience — it’s the presence of one that actually knows what it’s looking at.

This is what Christene creates. Not just an incredible eye — though it is — but a tone. You walk in and feel permission. To be delighted. To try things. To spend money on yourself without apology. That’s rarer than it sounds.

Then I got in the car with David, and we drove to Wellesley.

My friend Tracy Cohen just opened TLC Closet in Wellesley, a consignment store that, full disclosure, now houses a significant portion of my wardrobe — pieces I brought up from Brooklyn that deserve to be seen and loved by someone new. Tracy is very special to me as she was my first real friend in New York and truly makes me laugh harder than most. We lived in the same building on the Upper East Side and shared many workout classes, cocktails, and cigarettes. She worked in fashion for years before moving to the Boston area with her husband to raise her children. Her origin story here is so inspiring, as she started this business from her home. Walking into TLC’s new home, I felt something I can only describe as cellular recognition.

I love that ad copy, and also this image from my grandmother's very chic store.

I grew up understanding stores. My grandmother had one. I absorbed it early — the logic of a well-edited rack, the way good lighting changes everything, the rhythm of folding and hanging, the small theater of a fitting room. Being in a store feels like a language I spoke before I spoke anything else.

TLC Closet has that feeling. It’s curated. It’s warm. You can tell someone with taste made every decision. You must visit if you are in that neck of the woods. And being there reminded me of something I think we’ve been slowly forgetting.

Shopping in person is not a nostalgia trip. It is a radical act.

Yes, we all buy things online. I do it too. But the algorithm cannot give you surprise. The thing you didn’t know you needed until you held it. The serendipity of the rack — which is really just the universe handing you something you didn’t think to search for.

And then there are the people. The woman who leans over and says, “That color was made for you.” The owner who steers you away from the wrong thing and toward the right one. The friend who talks you into the coat you’ll wear for fifteen years.

This isn’t sentiment. It’s a completely different experience from a shopping cart and a returns label, and we’ve been so seduced by convenience that we’ve stopped noticing what it costs us.

Something is happening right now — in vintage, in consignment, in women-owned retail — that feels genuinely alive. These aren’t dying formats. They’re the antidote. The people building these spaces believe in the experience. You feel that. The care is in the room with you.

And speaking of being in the room — Brimfield Field Day: The Spring Edit is happening Friday, May 15th, and I want you there. I’m going with Christene, which should tell you everything you need to know.

If you know Brimfield, you understand. If you don’t, it’s one of the great American flea markets, a pilgrimage for people who believe the best things were made before you were born and are still out there waiting. I lose myself every time. And last year was our first outing together as a group, and we had a ball.

Two ways to join:

The Full Ride ($750) — Luxury Sprinter from NYC. Coffee, pastries, guided shopping, group lunch, and wine and charcuterie on the way home. Ten spots.

The Field Day Pass ($375) — Meet us there. Same kit, same home base, same guided shopping, same energy. 12–15 spots.

Subscribers get 24-hour early access before this opens publicly.

BOOK NOW →

I’m telling you all of this — Christene’s sale, TLC Closet, Brimfield — because it’s the same thing.

The argument for being in the room.
For letting something surprise you.
For shopping with women who are rooting for you.

The store is the point.

It always was.