We generally prefer a list of three things, Gail - how about adding the iconic clock out front, or the Christmas display windows or the lovely script "Marshall Fields" signature to the list?
Loved this piece, Bill. A terrific autobiographical tribute to a powerhouse of Chicago culture. I'm devastated to learn that Frango mints belong to Seattle.
There was a satellite Marshall Field's store in our suburb of Lake Forest. I remember going there in the early sixties to buy my first pair of stockings. It was a hushed and elegant counter manned by a hushed and elegant women and the stocking were wrapped in tissue and placed very delicately in a flat box. A far cry form the rumpled and wadded "L'Eggs!" See my previous post on my "Life in Stockings.
I grew up in Glencoe, but Marshall Fields was an essential part of our life. The day after Thanksgiving when they unveiled the Christmas windows was thrilling. Year after year, they were magical. Grown up lunches with my cousins and my aunt Miriam in The Walnut Room at Christmas was an important tradition. She insisted we dress properly, with pretty ankle socks, black patent leather shoes, dresses for our 7 or 8 year-old selves. The gigantic Christmas Tree was magnificent. We stopped when we got to high school, she thought we’d all become ill-mannered. Beatniks. Of course, she was very much like Midge Maisel’s avant garde mother in The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel. My mother and my aunts had a standing Tuesday lunch date at Fields.
In 1967, I was hired as part of The College Board, college girls employed for a summer job, with uniforms- that year we were very Carneby Street - and working at Fields felt incredible. I worked the next 2 summers as well. But that first year, as part of orientation, we were taken upstairs to see where Franco Mints were made. Even thinking about the smell makes my mouth water.
I remember keeping the Christmas Windows tradition going when my own kids were young. And I remember how horrified I felt when Macy’s purchased the company. Thankfully, the building remained unchanged, like the Carson Pirie Scott building, but quality? Forget about it.
As for the monstrosity that is named and owned by the orange conman, I remember a brief stint when pig balloons floated in front, blocking the name. Sometimes, it’s the simple things.
That Field’s summer job sounds awesome! The Sun-Times building was short and rectangular - only seven stories - it was built to resemble a battleship, with the flags on top - clearly not an upgrade to the site.
I did not live in Chicagoland until well after college. But, Marshall Fields was always a part of Christmas at our home, because of Frango Mints thanks to the Marshall Fields catalog. We even enjoyed them through out the year when my parents would be in Chicago, the mints always made their way home.
Frango baby! Walnut room!
We generally prefer a list of three things, Gail - how about adding the iconic clock out front, or the Christmas display windows or the lovely script "Marshall Fields" signature to the list?
Loved this piece, Bill. A terrific autobiographical tribute to a powerhouse of Chicago culture. I'm devastated to learn that Frango mints belong to Seattle.
Yes, but 95 years, Paul - I think Chicagoans can proudly claim Frangos as their own now.
There was a satellite Marshall Field's store in our suburb of Lake Forest. I remember going there in the early sixties to buy my first pair of stockings. It was a hushed and elegant counter manned by a hushed and elegant women and the stocking were wrapped in tissue and placed very delicately in a flat box. A far cry form the rumpled and wadded "L'Eggs!" See my previous post on my "Life in Stockings.
https://lizabluehumorist.substack.com/p/my-life-in-stockings?utm_source=publication-search
ps. Received a box of Franco mints for Xmas!
Stockings and chocolates - that’s very World War II, no? Frangos are appropriate anytime.
I grew up in Glencoe, but Marshall Fields was an essential part of our life. The day after Thanksgiving when they unveiled the Christmas windows was thrilling. Year after year, they were magical. Grown up lunches with my cousins and my aunt Miriam in The Walnut Room at Christmas was an important tradition. She insisted we dress properly, with pretty ankle socks, black patent leather shoes, dresses for our 7 or 8 year-old selves. The gigantic Christmas Tree was magnificent. We stopped when we got to high school, she thought we’d all become ill-mannered. Beatniks. Of course, she was very much like Midge Maisel’s avant garde mother in The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel. My mother and my aunts had a standing Tuesday lunch date at Fields.
In 1967, I was hired as part of The College Board, college girls employed for a summer job, with uniforms- that year we were very Carneby Street - and working at Fields felt incredible. I worked the next 2 summers as well. But that first year, as part of orientation, we were taken upstairs to see where Franco Mints were made. Even thinking about the smell makes my mouth water.
I remember keeping the Christmas Windows tradition going when my own kids were young. And I remember how horrified I felt when Macy’s purchased the company. Thankfully, the building remained unchanged, like the Carson Pirie Scott building, but quality? Forget about it.
As for the monstrosity that is named and owned by the orange conman, I remember a brief stint when pig balloons floated in front, blocking the name. Sometimes, it’s the simple things.
That Field’s summer job sounds awesome! The Sun-Times building was short and rectangular - only seven stories - it was built to resemble a battleship, with the flags on top - clearly not an upgrade to the site.
I remember that building well. The monstrosity named for the monstrosity who owns it stands on the site of a newspaper that was once a mandatory read.
I did not live in Chicagoland until well after college. But, Marshall Fields was always a part of Christmas at our home, because of Frango Mints thanks to the Marshall Fields catalog. We even enjoyed them through out the year when my parents would be in Chicago, the mints always made their way home.
Happy New Year to you, Mike! Frangos are always welcome in my home.