An editor recently said to me, "If you want to work in fashion, you better be able to rattle off a list of the best boutiques in the world." Colette and Merci in Paris come to mind, Jeffrey New York and even Capitol in Charlotte, N.C., rank on the list. As for Boston, flagship stores like Chanel and Burberry flank the end of Newbury Street and stalwarts Neiman Marcus and Saks occupy the Prudential Center. And then there is Louis Boston, Beantown's calling card for everything avant-garde and nouveau chic. Where there is brick and mortar in Back Bay, Louis sits in Southie in an expansive and desolate stretch of partially completed apartment buildings and the Institute for Contemporary Art Boston, a warehouse with a skeleton exterior. It is THE boutique in the city.
Of course, the slightly subversive, grungy exterior makes it that much cooler and more alluring to a shopper. "Louis," spray-painted irreverently on the sheet-metal side, was my only indication that this was the correct spot. The monolithic warehouse overlooking the water is home to Louis, Sam's Restaurant and Salon Mario Russo, a conglomerate of design, taste and beauty in one spiffy location. Formerly on Newbury Street and beat out for prime retail estate by H&M, the store demands the individuality that could only be provided by this unique retail space.
Upon entering the store, my breath was taken away for a split second: Lofty ceilings support two walls of floor to ceiling windows overlooking the pier. While most boutiques are characterized by an intimate feeling and abundance of clothes in a packed storefront, Louis offers all the space in the world. A beauty bar filled with Parisian candle company Diptyque and eco-friendly RGB nail polishes sits right beside the front door, ensuring that your olfactory senses are knocked dead (in the best way possible) as soon as you enter. Balenciaga and ProenzaSchouler fill racks towards the front; as one moves toward the back, there are lesser-known brands like Brochu Walker and Goat adding to the mix.
Their extensive Marni collection was the largest I've ever seen. The eclectic mix of clothes screams power executive or Bohemian goddess with an impeccable eye for style and a sizeable budget. To be clear, this is not the sort of store at which a college student shops. Jason Wu gowns hit the several-thousand-dollar mark and The Row jersey tees topped $250.
I was impressed to see Jonathan Saunders and up-and-coming designer Peter Pilotto side by side, bright prints abounding. Stilted glass cases were interspersed on the floor, acting as jewelry boxes for cuffs from Repossi and delicate charms from Finn. Nothing was too known; nothing was too mainstream. As retail space moves toward separate designer boutiques within boutiques - I'm conjuring up an image of Saks - it is immensely refreshing to see clothes physically mixed on the selling room floor. No one wears a single designer head-to-toe anymore, so why arrange a store that way?
Visually seeing a pair of The Row white silk trousers next to a Thomas Tait top leaves it to your imagination to envision other ways the two pieces could be matched separately or together.
I always wonder about the clientele at such a forward-thinking concept store in the middle of Southie, but there were enough shoppers to keep the well-suited staff puttering around and politely asking if anyone needed assistance. Thankfully, I was left to admire in peace. Louis lives up to the regal expectations of its name. Make the trip and consider it a free visit to a different sort of art gallery.
--
Elizabeth Landers is a junior majoring in political science. She can be reached at Elizabeth.Landers@tufts.edu.
