WALL STREET was alive with unintentional self-parody last week. A construction pit was yawning in front of the heart of American capitalism, the New York Stock Exchange, which has sunk to selling ad space on its own forehead: Its Corinthian pillars were obscured by a vinyl billboard for a the Holiday Inn (especially ironic since the sculpture on the pediment above the columns is loftily entitled “Integrity Protecting the Works of Man”).
Down the cobblestone alleys, amid stands selling $6 neckties and discount sunglasses in a greasy haze from bumper-to-bumper hot dog carts, I received a gift from the metaphor gods: A woman in her 80s wearing stretch-cotton leggings, running shoes, a baseball cap and an XL T-shirt with TIFFANY & CO. across the front.
Tiffany’s roots run deep in our nation’s history. Tiffany is as American as guns. Since opening in 1837, it has survived the Civil War, two World Wars, the Panic of 1893, the Great Depression, the psychedelic movement and 171 holiday seasons, supplying niceties from diamonds to cuspidors to dog whips. It designed a pitcher for the Lincoln inaugural, and made swords for the Civil War.
Assortis Jewellery 