Stepping Out on 8th Street, SE
Having heard that Barracks Row, 8th Street, was now a destination, where wrinkle-free, polished shiny people alighted after-hours to nudge aside us Hill townies to make the street their scene, I blithely embarked on an outing down the block with my Nebraska-raised friend, Laura, one recent Indian summer evening.
An earlier visit to Matchbox that night revealed folk in sweat pants, lots of jeans, blue and bluer, striped shirts and khakis, and, this being a balmy city evening in October, t-shirts printed with in-the-know words I do not know. I fled home and awaited a deeper hour of night. Back on 8th Street later that night, one could sight a few couples holding hands and sauntering, as if reservation times were of no account, a few shimmery tops among younger women traveling in pairs or packs, and, for that continental flair, a pair of young men with skinny black jeans and German accents. But no Big Fashion Invasion seemed to be taking over dear Barracks Row, as I had heard. Most people wore clothes that had seen the light of day, that day.
But, perhaps it is the contrast: a Marine patrolling the corner of the Marine Commandant’s house, which by force of clean lines and placement, juts permanently into the 8th street scene, has the habit of making everyone nearby look slightly unkempt and sartorially undisciplined.
Later, perched atop Cava’s roof deck, we surveyed the nightlife below as earnest valets opened doors to women and men eager to drink, dine and huddle around little tables in a well-lit stretch of road eight blocks deep of the Capitol.
Dress Marines, take note: tall black leather boots ruled the sidewalk, if anything did. Paired with them, bold details of geometric print blouses and dresses bounced off the streetlights and sometimes visually overpowered their owners, who bobbed their way into a variety of establishments, from the newer – Cava to Belga Café – to the entrenched – the oldest lesbian bar in the city, Phase 1. Short skirts only made an appearance in tweed and legs flashed only when entering or exiting SUVs or perhaps with a reveler displaying her double-jointedness. It seemed that many a woman still favors her summer wardrobe, where shorts are still doing double-duty, as does an off-the-shoulder casual style, at least on this particular evening. Calf-high black boots are pulled out to announce it is indeed fall, no matter the temperature, and partnered with bright colors or solid blocks of neutral colors.
Cigarettes are still a fashion accessory here, and after hours women outnumber men, and not just outside Phase 1, but at outside tables and upstairs haunts. While the majority of outfits are still leaning toward urban-utilitarian, and worn for comfort, almost aggressively, one is seeing the cloth or nylon flower garlands around some fashionable young necks, albeit ones leaving the scene early. These garlands are also big sellers at the accessory vendor’s flea market stall on Saturdays, she told me the following day as young women clustered around the feathered headbands, garlands and flower accessories she sells.
However, I have to say I was most taken with the skillfully casual combination worn by my friend, who came to 8th Street in a bright white fountain-style cotton tank floating atop khaki shorts, with a complex shiny, multi-stranded beaded necklace dressing things up. Even with her broken nose, suffered the previous day in a romp with her toddler-aged daughter, she can still beam style and flair to 8th Street. Remember, come as you are, wash behind your ears, add a few things from the closet that come out when the kids go to bed and the laptop is shut, because the lights are bright and we can see everything from the rooftop.