Andrea Linett, the former creative director of Lucky who became eBay Fashion's creative director this week, first discovered the wonders of eBay five years ago when a disastrous photo shoot left her desperate for some retail therapy. As is the case when one is depression-shopping, she was certain that if she could just find that one perfect thing, everything would get better. And lo, she discovered a discontinued Hermes Medor watch on eBay, which she snagged for $495 (about a fourth of its original price). “I kept thinking, ‘If I can just get this watch, it will be O.K.,’ ” she told the Times. And it was! Linett plans to re-vamp the fashion section of eBay to make it look more magazine-like. She's also enlisting designers like Derek Lam to do exclusive collections with the site, which will be available through Gilt Groupe-esque flash sales (Lam's line will drop on the eBay this spring). Furthermore, there will be editorial content to help customers click through pages and pages of stuff; she hopes it will feel like "a digital flea market," according to the Times. The site is currently “quite daunting," she admits. "If you are looking for footwear, there are more than 1.5 million pairs of shoes
Designer Watches,Best Replica Watches,Top Swiss watches Information
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
Citigroup, Stanford, Primary Global in Court News
Chief Executive Officer Vikram Pandit and Pramit Jhaveri, head of the bank’s Indian unit, were cleared by local police of involvement in an alleged $66 million fraud at its branch in Gurgaon. Citigroup employee Shivraj Puri was taken into custody as part of an investigation into complaints that he forged documents to lure investors, S.S. Deswal, commissioner of police in Gurgaon near New Delhi, told reporters yesterday. The alleged fraud was confined to Citigroup’s Gurgaon office and involved 3 billion rupees ($66 million) that was invested over 15 months, Deswal said. Senior Citigroup executives were accused by Helion Advisors Pvt. Managing Director Sanjeev Aggarwal of conspiring with Puri to defraud him of 324.3 million rupees, according to an e-mailed statement yesterday. The New York-based bank last week filed a police complaint accusing Puri of promising “extraordinary high interest rates” to lure clients and siphoning funds. “Citi identified the fraud and immediately reported the matter to the regulators and law enforcement agencies,” Debasis Ghosh, a spokesman for Citigroup in Mumbai, said in an e-mail. Aggarwal’s “claims against senior executives are completely without basis and we intend to contest them vigorously.” “Citi will continue to work with the authorities on this investigation,” Ghosh said. Aggarwal didn’t return two calls to his mobile phone and one to his office. Trials/Appeals PharmAthene Funded Siga Drug Trial, Official Says PharmAthene Inc. provided funding to Siga Technologies Inc. to conduct a human safety trial of a drug designed to fight smallpox outbreaks linked to terrorist attacks, a PharmAthene official testified. Siga was persuaded by PharmAthene to conduct the first phase of human safety trials for its smallpox antiviral ST-246 without funding from the U.S. National Institutes of Health in order to get human data on the product faster, Valerie Riddle, PharmAthene’s senior vice president and medical director, testified yesterday in Delaware Chancery Court. “PharmAthene provided the funding to Siga,” Riddle said during the second day of a trial in PharmAthene’s lawsuit against Siga over a licensing agreement for the smallpox medicine. PharmAthene, based in Annapolis, Maryland, sued New York- based Siga in 2006, asking a judge to affirm the purported licensing agreement for the drug, which has gotten the attention of U.S. officials seeking ways to counter potential biological terror attacks. Siga contends there is no license and the company isn’t legally bound by documents prepared for a deal. Riddle testified that PharmAthene also helped Siga prepare for a site meeting for a contract proposal that it submitted to the NIH. In addition, PharmAthene advised Siga on applying for a drug designation that provides for tax credits and marketing incentives, she said. “Working toward developing 246 was the goal regardless of the business arrangement,” Riddle said. “I always thought we would get 246 either under a merger agreement or under a license arrangement.”
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
What happens to your Oxfam donations?
Raymond Williams, Jeffrey Archer, and the Marchioness of Bath: not the likeliest of literary threesomes. And yet here they are, or their books at least, peeping from the crinkles of a black bin bag, nestling next to a fluffy white hat from Next, a pair of knee-high Kate Kuba boots, five handbags, an old "nana blanket", George Clooney's Solaris, and Boyzone's Where We Belong. It's mid-morning at the Oxfam shop in Enfield, north London, and this bizarre collection is one of 10 donation bags the shop has already received today. But for me, this ragtag bunch of books, clothes, CDs, DVDs, crockery and jewellery has special significance: over the next few weeks, I'll be following many of these items from donor to buyer. For Oxfam's 700 shops, January is the busiest time of the year. Most months, the charity's 21,000 volunteers sort at least 800 or 900 tonnes of donations. But in January, they often deal with more than 1,000 tonnes as Britons embark on new-year clearouts, or dispose of unwanted presents. Most will dump their bag of surplus goods and won't think any more about them. They focus instead on how Oxfam spends the money made from these donations (around £60m a year, or roughly a fifth of the charity's total £318m turnover) or how, in some critics' eyes, it wastes it. Some might also debate whether Oxfam's shops – specifically, its bookshops – make life tough for secondhand booksellers. But the means by which all its donated goods are processed, priced and sold goes largely unanalysed. The crinkled black sack I'm about to track through the Oxfam labyrinth came from Kaye Christodolou. An Oxfam donor for more than 40 years, she pops by the Enfield shop at least once a month with a bag of giveaways. Right now, she is sorting her way through the contents of her loft and, more sadly, the belongings of her mother, who recently died. Today she has brought shop manager Sally Gordon a bag of 38 donations. "This one was my mum's," says Christodolou, holding up a quilt made from soft, bright squares of fabric. Some of the stuff she has donated has been in her loft for so long that she forgot she had it. But other items – such as the blanket – carry great sentimental value. "My mum died at 92, but for years she knitted these squares, ever since I can remember as a child," Christodolou says. "So I thought, I'll give it to Sally and it will move on and my mum will be watching and know it's gone where she wanted it to go." Not everything was such a wrench to give away. Christodolou loves reading but those books, it turns out, were never her favourites. Above us, at the top of a steep flight of stairs decorated with dog-eared fact-sheets about shoes, is the shop's nerve-centre. It's in this musty room – which holds a few mannequins, and several toy parrots lurking behind the net curtains – where volunteers sort and price every donation. It's essential they get it right: the shop has an annual target turnover of around £135,000. Fortunately, Gordon, who joined Oxfam 10 years ago after running her own fashion company, is an expert. "I've lived and died rag trade since I was very young," she says – and it shows. Watching her sort and price Christodolou's jumpers, scarves, shoes and handbags is like watching a croupier deal a deck of cards. It's a mesmerising blur of clothes and price-tags – and, above all, sartorial nous. "This?" Gordon says, dangling a long jumper from her hand. "This is George, and George we won't get very much for. So it's about £3.99." Seconds later, she's called the next item. "£7.99!" And then the next: "£4.99!" Occasionally, she'll stop for a few moments to marvel at a particularly fetching garment. She holds up a beautiful scarf, which Christodolou couldn't keep because she's allergic to wool. "Oh this is lovely! This is merino! Right: £7.99." It takes her less than five minutes to sort 38 items. Next, the clothes are checked for defects, steamed for hygiene, marked for size – and then they're ready for the rails. Exactly where the clothes are hung matters. "We've found it's better if you don't mix middle-aged polyester with a nice young fashion line," Gordon explains. Why? "Because then you just look like a charity shop! We work really hard at trying to make it not look like a charity shop!" She admits it's an ambitious plan. "We can't offer people eight of the same items like a high street shop could do. But we do try and group items so that when you first enter the shop, your overall impression is one of order." If there's one thing Gordon cares about more than presentation, it's her volunteers. Most Oxfam shops have a rota of around 30. Enfield has 72 – and it's easy to see why: the shop has a wonderful, welcoming atmosphere. "We couldn't manage without you, darling," Gordon tells one volunteer, George, and you can tell she's sincere. In return, she has been rewarded with dedication: more than half the volunteers recently won an award from the local council for each racking up more than 100 hours of service. "It's a family atmosphere – the older ones look after the younger ones," Gordon says. "Lots of people are on the dole and they're trying to get jobs – and the older ones go through mock interviews with them. We have a lot of people who come here who life's been a bit unkind to, who come here a bit damaged. And it gives them confidence, and they can achieve great things once they've got their confidence back." One such volunteer is George, whose job, among other things, is to steam the clothes. "George came to us about eight years ago," says Gordon. "He had been working at Asda collecting the trolleys, but they got rid of him. He came in here with Michael, his carer. And Michael asked me to see if he could be given a chance, because he had been made to feel pretty useless. We gave him a go, and George has thrived. He's so bossy that people think he's the manager sometimes!" She laughs. When the first Oxfam shop opened in Oxford in 1948, the intention was to raise money for disadvantaged people outside the UK. That remains Oxfam's core goal, but the charity also fulfils a vital community role at home. The next day, Gordon sends me a panicked email. One of Christodolou's donations, a top from Next priced £6.99, has been nicked. "You would never realise how much we have stolen," Gordon tells me. "We had to seal the mirror in the fitting room because every week you shook the mirror, and £80's worth of price-tags would fall out. People had gone in, taken the price off and stuck it behind the mirror." Gordon couldn't believe people would steal from a charity. "You could have knocked me off a stool with a look." Nevertheless, most of Christodolou's 38 items will sell at some point within the next fortnight. Some of the books – one by Winston Churchill, for example – will be auctioned online. A few items – a necklace, the Solaris DVD and the Boyzone CD – will be "cascaded", in Oxfam terminology, to the charity's Supersaver store in Romford, where they will go for cutdown prices. An old mobile phone and a few plastic plates are sold to recycling plants; a two-piece summer suit will be stored upstairs until May. But most donations sell within days. The merino scarf goes first – snapped up within hours – and a further 23 are in new homes by the end of the week.
Frankly Speaking: Color, scenes and stories from the beach
I’ve long enjoyed the mystique of beach life and its warmth, its peace, its security and, most of all, the unforgettable characters. From a security standpoint, for example, where else could Susie leave an open handbag containing highly classified government documents, and her batch of “buy one, get one free” restaurant coupons on her beach chair, and then take a leisurely two-mile walk down the beach, trusting the inviolability of that handbag? And this in the face of the well-advertised instances in supermarkets where handbags have been stolen, in full view, from shopping baskets — and, in the streets, snatched right out of the arms of the owner. No, the beach honor code is something else. Think about it. It’s the highest and purest form of trust. Then we have the couple from New York City who conduct spirited conversations, assured that no one can hear them. For us sand-splashed year-round veterans, however, we know that sound travels unimpeded for long distances over the sand. Here’s a play by play I recently overheard at Vanderbilt Beach in Florida: “Murray, look at that one, will you? Did you ever notice that the ones who wear thongs, shouldn’t?” “You wear thongs, Sheila.” “Yeah, but who sees them at the Bridge Club.” Suddenly, Sheila’s cell phone belts out the lilting strains of “Feelings.” She stares at the screen for a moment, and then puts the phone down. “Well, aren’t you going to answer it, Sheila?” “No, it’s my mother.” “Your mother? Why … Why wouldn’t you answer it? We came a long way just to see her.” “Because she doesn’t know we’re here yet. She thinks we get in on Thursday.” “She’s your mother, for God’s sake, and we’re within a half mile of her place. Answer the phone!” “I’m not going to. She can wait till Thursday. I just can’t be around her too much, Murray. We always have this discussion. You know her. She talks a blue streak. You can’t get a word in edgewise…. And besides, she keeps telling me I wear too much gold. And she’s constantly bugging me that my lipstick doesn’t follow my lip line. I keep telling her that I have to wear it that way, because I have tiny lips. And, besides, if I did call her, she’ll probably want us to come over.” “Sheila, that’s why we’re here… I don’t understand you. Anyway, the woman’s on her last legs. She could die before you get there.” “She’s not going to die, Murray. She’s still got payments on that old Bentley.” “Look, sweetheart, I’m uneasy being here and not contacting her. It gives me agita.” “Well, then you call her, or take some Tums.” “She’s your mother. She brought you into the world. I don’t believe how callous you are.” “I didn’t ask her to bring me into the world. That’s beside the point. I just don’t like to have her breathing down my neck… She’s a very needy person. As far as I’m concerned, she’s here in Florida. We live in the Bronx. That’s the ideal distance between us… Oh, OK, I’ll call her, but just to shut you up. You’ve got some mouth on you, Murray.” “Hello, Mom? This is Sheila... Yeah, we’re on our way. We’re on the Jersey Turnpike. The traffic is terrible. I’ll call you once we stop. Maybe after the toll booth... No, he can’t talk, either. He’s sleeping. Bye, Ma. Look, I’ll call you later. I think we’re in a dead zone. You’re fading out. Bye.”
Small shop with big goals in Gates
The Mulberry Patch is just as small as its name implies. The approximately 500-square-foot gift shop opened Dec. 1 and sells candles, children's toys, handbags, home décor items and more. Owner Kimberly Ringelstein said her goal for the store is to sell unique high-end products. "I just wanted a specialty shop — things you can't get everywhere else," said the 41-year-old Gates resident. The store, at 560 Coldwater Road, is open from noon to 7 p.m. Monday through Friday and 10 a.m. to 7 p.m. Saturday, and features products including Donna Sharp handbags, Crabtree & Evelyn scents, Michel Design Works soaps and candles, Melissa and Doug educational toys and Pavillion Gift Company home décor (which is based in Bergen, Genesee County). "My slogan is 'gifts for the hearts and home,' and I really do believe that I specialize in that," Ringelstein said. Also a hair stylist and nail technician, Ringelstein is the former owner of Poshe Salon and Spa on Buffalo Road. But when health problems began to hinder her work, she knew she had to make a career change. While on vacation in Yorktown, Va., this fall, Ringelstein was inspired by a boutique she visited named the Yorktown Onion, which sells home décor and gifts. "I thought, 'I could totally do this,' and I'm not hurting my body," she said. Immediately upon returning from vacation, Ringelstein put her plans to open a store into motion. The location next door to the salon where she works part time (Loreta's Hair Salon) was vacant. "I got this thing together pretty quick," she said. Although the Mulberry Patch has been open only for a month, Ringelstein is hoping to eventually introduce new product lines. "It might be small right now, but I do feel we're going to grow," she said. But with a limited amount of space, Ringelstein said she's not sure where she'll put everything just yet. She also admits she's worried about a decline in sales after the holiday season. "Everything I had went into (the store)," she said. "I did take a risk, but I'm confident about the things I'm selling." Town Supervisor Mark Assini noted that small businesses are "the backbone of our town's economy." "We are grateful to have the Mulberry Patch open in Gates and wish them much success," he said. Most shoppers have spotted the store driving by or heard about it through word of mouth. Dawn Mortimer of Chili stopped into the Mulberry Patch to finish last-minute Christmas shopping. "I like to support local retailers," she said. "There are all these huge chain stores, but I'd rather shop here."
Luxury handbags use recycled inner tubes -- an unlikely spot sells them
Ever look at an old tire and think, “Man, that would make a gorgeous handbag?” Me neither. But the creators of Passchal sure did. Passchal handbags, for women and men, are high-end, luxury accessories made of recycled tire inner tubes, as well as leather. Celebrities such as Taylor Lautner of “Twilight” fame and “90210’s” Annalynne McCord have been seen toting around the bags. And now, the handbags are getting some local love, but in a really, really strange place: a tire shop. In an effort to be more “female-friendly,” Waukegan Tire, 3444 W. Washington in Park City, has started carrying the bag line. Julie Serritella, in charge of design and marketing at Waukegan Tire, says it’s the first tire shop to ever carry accessories. “Women like getting their car repaired as much as they like going to the dentist. But 85 percent of the women in America’s households are making decisions about cars. And we wanted a higher level of satisfaction for our women consumers,” says Serritella. “So the eco-friendly purses, it fit with us just perfectly. We are marketing toward women, auto-friendly and eco-friendly.” And the response has been more than favorable. They even had to reorder the bags twice in one day. Of the 30 handbags at the tire shop, you’ll find a credit card holder for $22, a gorgeous women’s hobo bag with mismatched patterns for $219, a men’s briefcase for $229 and a travel bag for $385. Since each bag is created from a different tire inner tube, no two are alike, and each has its own ridges or markings. “You would not think this is an inner-tube material,” says Serritella. “It is so pliable and soft and luxurious to the touch.” Ten percent of the shop’s bag sales will benefit the United Way of Lake County, says Waukegan Tire Vice President Julie Scroggins, who admits, along with Serritella, that the focus on purses has brought her a nice change of pace from tires. “We find the purse business very exciting. We have to remember to do our other jobs.”
Monday, January 3, 2011
21st-century butlers
So you’ve bought the penthouse on the Upper East Side in New York; the house in Eaton Square; the large luxury apartment with state-of-the-art electronics in The Peak area of Hong Kong; the Palladian shooting lodge in Gloucestershire and the palace in Venice. Servicing the needs of all that property and a family that requires invitations to the hottest parties around needs a phalanx of discreet, well-connected butlers. Enter Quintessentially, the wish-fulfilment empire headed up by 35-year-old Ben Elliot, nephew of Camilla, Duchess of Cornwall, whose address book gets to places where others cannot reach, and his 38-year-old co-founder, Aaron Simpson. EDITOR’S CHOICE Present solution: a château - Dec-10Shanghai Tudor - Dec-06Revel with a cause - Nov-26Alpine ambition - Nov-19China towns - Nov-12Dig for therapy - Nov-05Their 2,000 thorough-bred Quintessentialists (many of the blonde, swishy-haired variety), spread across the world, are on standby to serve outlandish whims: whether it’s sourcing a diamond-encrusted Hermès Birkin bag or walking a Pekingese and eight Labradors for an owner who comes to London for 10 weeks of the year. Christmas prompts extra demands. Take the couple – an American designer and Russian banker whose primary residence is New York – who last year asked the firm to prepare their Belgravia home for the festive season. No small thing. Quintessentially had to find and wrap Christmas presents for 20 of the couple’s closest friends and relations, including a Van Cleef & Arpels watch worth £35,000; stock their fridge and larder with Cristal, smoked salmon from Iceland, white truffles from Alba and caviar from Iran. Decorations were taken care of; all the couple had to do was turn up on Christmas Eve. If you’re really pushed, Quintessentially will buy your house/apartment/palace for you and install a battalion of trained staff. Recent finds include a £7m bachelor pad in Knightsbridge with a secret “Batman’s cave” study behind the library for a client from Qatar; a 20-bedroom palace in St Tropez, worth £85m, for a Hong Kong member; and a 12-bedroom hacienda with stables and polo fields in Argentina sold for £8m to a Russian oligarch. The firm is on the hunt for a private island with a helipad for a man with a £100m budget and, for another client, a castle in Mauritius. Since forming 10 years ago, Quintessentially has expanded to 56 countries, including bases in São Paulo, Delhi, Shanghai, Beijing and Moscow (its fourth-biggest customer base), looking after local and travelling members. Catering to a clientele that travels for work and leisure has been one way that Quintessentially has sought to differentiate itself from other niche operators. It hopes to have operations in a total of 65 countries by the first quarter of next year. The Bric countries have taken to concierge services surprisingly easily, particularly the Chinese. Recent demands have included a pair of the red shoes worn by the Pope and backstage passes to a Beyoncé concert. One client asked for three top fashion stores in Shanghai to be closed so that his wife could have a private birthday shopping treat. His wish was granted. Has the downturn affected them? I ask Ben (6ft 3in, floppy light brown hair, aquamarine eyes, crisp white shirt, navy tie and sharp navy suit by Timothy Everest, who tailors all Elliot’s suits except for the ones that belonged to his late grandfather, Major Bruce Shand). “What happens in times of uncertainty,” he asserts, exuding his characteristic swagger, “is that people choose the best and I believe we are the best.” Described variously as “charming”, a “hustler” and “arrogant”, his accent is a blend of “mockney” and the clear diction of an old Etonian – a perfect reflection of his wide boy-cum-patrician persona.
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