Saturday Shopping

Oakbrook Center, Illinois, 1969. Mom and I stand outside the Oakbrook Marshall Field's. Mom's wearing one of her wonderful knitted suits, and I'm still sporting my Ranger Rick jacket.

We conclude the window-shopping trip.

Oakbrook, Illinois, August 1962. My Mom and my paternal Grandmother, Tatjana, stand with me near the Bonwit Teller store during our first visit to Oakbrook. I don't like to shop, but Oakbrook is one thing I've missed since I stopped living in the Chicago area. Oakbrook was a destination: even on a Sunday, when stores were not open.

(Here's that fountain in the Spring, and here it is in the Autumn.)

Sunday Paper: You're-Wearing-That Edition

Suburban Chicago, 1972. I read the paper while waiting for a ride. That day, Mom asked me to go to a shop—C.D. Peacock Jeweler in Oakbrook Center—to pick up a ring she had left there for repairs. Oakbrook was a tony place, and back then, people dressed up when they visited that mall.

That morning, I had put on some tattered jeans, a casual top, and a bandana. My paternal Grandmother, Tatjana, questioned whether I should go to Oakbrook dressed "like that," but I assured her it was okay because I'd be running in and out of Peacock's quickly, and I wouldn't be making a promenade around the mall.

The person who drove me to Oakbrook waited in the car as I popped into Peacock's. While a clerk fetched Mom's ring, I saw a mother and daughter leisurely browsing the diamond case, and I overheard them chatting. They spoke in Lithuanian—and, confident no one understood them—spent a few minutes critiquing my appearance, and wondering how Peacock's had let someone "dressed like a hippie" into the shop. When I'd paid for the ring repair, I turned to the women and, in Lithuanian, thanked them for the compliment about my fashion sense. The exchange could have stayed in my memory as just a satisfying moment of snark, but it taught me to be careful in public—no matter what language one speaks.

On the way home from Oakbrook Mall, Don McLean's "American Pie" played on the radio, and the driver explained the meaning of the song's lyrics to me.

Halloween Decorations

Suburban Chicago, October 1968. My Dad's cousin and her husband visited our home one autumn. I've looked at this snapshot many times; the image reminds me of how much I hated that velvet hat—and how much I loved my Mom's knitted coat. When I scanned the photo, I saw that there were Halloween decorations on the bay window and door. 

Dad took this photo as we were departing for Oakbrook Center.

The Round Sears

Oakbrook Center, August 1962. My paternal Grandmother, Tatjana, and I sit on a bench near the cool Sears store.

Oakbrook opened in 1962, and Sears was one of the first stores built in the outdoor mall.

Oakbrook Center gets a facelift.

Oakbrook Center will undergo renovations.

Oakbrook, Illinois, September 1980. Do you remember Bonwit Teller? Mom's holding a green, Marshall Field's bag.

Thanks to my friend Kris for pointing the renovation story out to us.

Did you go shopping this weekend?

The Christmas season is in full throttle at the malls.

Oakbrook, Illinois, December 1964. Mom and I stand outside of the Marshall Field's at Oakbrook Center. We wait until a few weeks before Christmas to start our shopping.

Elegant Shoppers

Oakbrook, Illinois, Autumn 1968. My Dad's cousin and my Mom visit Oakbrook Center. Mom is wearing that fabulous knitted coat.

I was born to wear these clothes, but I was born a generation too late.

Shopping Trip

Suburban Chicago, Autumn 1964. Mom and I look ready to head out to Oakbrook Center.

Tulip Time

Here are the Oakbrook Center tulips to which I referred in this post:

Oakbrook Center, Oakbrook, Illinois, April 1967. My Mom stands in front of one of many of the shopping center's fountains that feature seasonal plantings.

Oakbrook Center Opens

Oakbrook Center opened in March 1962, and our family began frequenting the shopping center a few months later.

Oakbrook was a special place. Even if a family could not afford to shop at all of the stores, it always could enjoy the flowers and other seasonal decorations.

Oakbrook punctuated many occasions for me. I went to the old Oakbrook "UA Cinema" on my first date. The movie was A Touch of Class with Glenda Jackson and George Segal. I had dinner at "The Magic Pan" on the night I graduated from high school. I used to meet my Godmother at Henrici's for lunch. When I started interviewing for university jobs, Mom took me to Oakbrook to select a suit. After I got a job, she indulged me by buying a pair of unforgettable shoes at one of the Oakbrook stores. Mr. Irene and I selected our engagement rings at the Oakbrook Marshall Field's. Mom and I picked out Mom's "mother-of-the-bride" dress at Oakbrook's Lord & Taylor.

Oakbrook, Illinois, August 1962. The shopping center always plants beautiful flowers. In the spring, it is full of tulips. That's the famous, round Sears store in the background.
 

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Oakbrook, Illinois, August 1962. My paternal Grandmother, Tatjana, my Mom, and I sit near one of the fountains. We are in front of the Sears store. Mom holds the pocketbook that my Dad's friend, Casey, brought from Colombia.
 

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Oakbrook, Illinois, August 1962. Ah! That dress is so fresh in my memory, I can almost hear the rustle of the fabric.
 

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Oakbrook, Illinois, August 1962. Well, hello there.

Found it.

I mentioned here that Mr. Irene and I spent part of the day after our wedding at Oakbrook Center.

Mr. Irene and I went to the mall to do a bit of pre-honeymoon shopping. At Field's, we found Mom and our visiting friends. Mom had taken the friends to Oakbrook as an afternoon distraction while Mr. Irene and I readied for our trip to Venice. And—no surprise—we tracked down Mom and the visiting friends at the Field's lower-level café.

Mr. Irene reminded me that one of the visiting friends took a photo of us at that day:
 

Oakbrook, Illinois, June, 1989. My Mom, Mr. Irene, and I stand with a visiting friend at Oakbrook Center. We have the Marshall Field's shopping bags. Mom and I wear our favorite color: beige.

It's a good day to shop.

Mom and I are going shopping today. I don't like to window shop any longer. I prefer to go to a store, find what I need, and leave. Window shopping, or "looking around," eats into my knitting time. When the clock is ticking, one must prioritize how one spends free time. Mom and I will go to a nearby mall here in town. It should be quiet. A football game will take place this afternoon. Since I don't have to coach the game—ha ha—our schedule is open.

I remember how much fun I had when my Mom took Little Me shopping. Her day off from work was Thursday, and sometimes she would pick me up from school. From there, we would head to the old Marshall Field's on Lake Street in Oak Park, Illinois. On our way out of Field's, we usually stopped at the store bakery, where we would purchases some Napoleons and Eclairs. The Field's clerk packed the pastries into a white, cardboard box, and she tied them with a gold string. Even today, I use the Field's Napoleon as the standard against which I measure all other Napoleons.

If Mom had more time, or if she felt like treating me to a special outing, then we would go to the Marshall Field's in the newly built Oakbrook Center. Oakbrook! It was a beautiful outdoor mall with elegant stores like Field's, I. Magnin, Bramson's, and Saks Fifth Avenue. We usually went to the "bargain level" at Field's. We often ate a hot dog at the Field's café before we headed home, down Roosevelt Road.

Oakbrook weaves through many memories for me, and I'll return to talking about it again.

Oakbrook had such special meaning to me that Mr. Irene and I headed there to take a nice, spring walk on the day after we got married. We shopped at Rizzoli, where I bought Allen Bloom's The Closing of the American Mind and Judith Balaban Quine's The Bridesmaids.

I enjoyed window shopping during early trips to the Oak Park and Oakbrook stores. With Field's gone, and no Oak Park or Oakbrook nearby, I'd rather pick up what's on my list and leave.

Suburban Chicago, December 1961. My Mom shows my paternal Grandmother, Tatjana, her purchases after a shopping trip. The women stand at our kitchen table.