don’t mind the gap

In conjunction with our trip to the salon yesterday afternoon for my hair cut, Jeff and I indulged in an evening of shopping downtown. We arrived in town early, so decided we’d go to Borders beforehand. On the way to Borders from where we parked, we passed by the Gap. Jeff suggested, and I concurred–since I’ve told him in the past that I’m not much of a fan of the Gap–that he would go later, while I was at my appointment.

When we left Borders and walked to the Grooming Lounge, I told Jeff that he could go on and I’d call him on the mobile when I was finished. He said that he’d come in for a bit first. I think he really just wanted his complimentary espresso. As we sat waiting for my appointment, though, I told him that if he waited for me there, I would go with him to the Gap afterwards. He did, and I did.

what do you call this kind of cap?
And now I have to publicly retract the negative things I’ve thought or said about that chain. We arrived to find they were having a terrific winter sale (some prices in the store were lower even than the ones on the online sales site). By the time we left, probably an hour later, I’d found a number of things I liked and ended up outspending Jeff by about $10. I bought two pair of khakis (one black and one “air force gray”), two nice long wool scarves (here’s one, in “cloud” and “sunshine”), two cute wool and wool-cotton knit winter caps (which I now tend to call, perhaps incorrectly, “toques.” As a kid, we called them “toboggans,” but in college I was told that this must be either a regionalism or a familyism, since a toboggan is only a sled. Yet now I see “toboggan hat” used on a number of Internet shopping sites, at least for the wool hats with pom-pons on the end. So, what do you call the wool close-fitting caps worn in winter, like the one in the picture?), two pair of funky striped socks, two pair of nice boxer briefs in olive and charcoal, and two heavy wool baseball caps in heather gray and olive.

Ok, there is one thing for which I’m still not too happy with the Gap. While I was originally drafting this entry, I logged onto to see what they called those wool caps (only to find out now that they call them simply “caps” and “hats”) and that new browser window froze when I clicked on the Gap’s Winter Sale link. I moved back to the first browser window and quickly copied the text I’d put in the field for this entry–just in case. A moment later I was feeling self-congratulatory, because the browser crashed. I opened a new blog entry screen and hit Ctrl-V. Nada. Somehow, though, even though I’d copied the text, it was gone anyway when the Gap page crashed the browser. So I had to recreate this entry, which was obviously much better the first time.

5 thoughts on “don’t mind the gap

  1. Thanks, Matt. That’s the word I generally use. I became uncertain, though, when I looked it up in the dictionary and saw that the first meaning was for a small, close-fitting brimless woman’s cap. I should have pursued further, though, since the second definition, which I didn’t originally follow up, is TUQUE, defined as “a warm knitted usually pointed stocking cap.”

  2. Stebbins: In the previous posting, I wrote a little more about the experience at the Grooming Louge.
    Beyond that, though, this was my first and only visit there, so I only have the one experience on which to judge. Jeff has been there a couple of times, and I think he quite likes it; he admits, though, that the feel on the occasions he’s been there–when his stylist was a woman, as were several others–was very different from when he went with me recently, when the entire staff–with the exception of the receptionist in the other room–was male. It felt very straight and macho, perhaps even exceedingly though just short of uncomfortably so. Especially when they turned up the volume on the TV and switched it to ESPN and started discussing the games, though, I felt like a fish out of water.
    The pampering (pre-haircut scalp massage, hot face towel, and post-haircut shoulder massage) and amenities (complimentary root bear and espresso) were very nice, and the stylist spent a lot of time and attention on the cut, but in the final analysis I’m not sure I believe its all worth the price, which I think is about $45 before gratuity. My usual stylist, whom I think does a fantastic job and who spends just as much time on the haircut, charges only about half that.
    So, I did enjoy it, very much, but I’m not sure I’d pay the premium to go back regularly. I could imagine, though, going there again as a special treat for some of their other spa-like services.

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