Marcus Anast
1978-1983
Spring and Thompson Street, fifth Floor Walk Up, Above Ben's Pizza
Pam and I were of the first wave of fashion designers and labels to come out of SOHO.
Delaware Street which we created and owned was a label which created hand knits, adorned with embroidery, dyed furs, beads and other such indulgences.
Life was simple. Handball on the courts across the street, a smoke on the fire escape and a bottle of wine on the tar roof, the smell of tar in the summer---WHOA...the smells...Walking to the studio we would smell the fresh baked goods coming out of the commercial bakery on Prince Street. The smell was so intoxicating that we would stop at a small sandwich shop on the south side of Prince Street called Dean and Delucca, later it was Steve's, George graduated to the North side of the street, now I think the world. The evening walks were filled with the smell of spices and pepper, coming from the spice factory near Broome Street. The grocery store on Thompson always had a Portuguese sweet coffee at night with a shot of whiskey for the neighbors.
Our neighbors are always in our thoughts and hearts...it was truly a neighborhood..Elephant and Castle for steak and frits.. La Gamelle for a huge bowl of mussels, a loaf of bread and a bottle of wine---Hi Andy, how's everything going?
The used needles in the streets did not excite us very much. The fresh smell of rotting garbage in the summer wasn't pleasing.
We left because of a growing family. Banging on the walls when entering the apartment to scatter the roaches didn't bode well with infants. we moved to the other side HOUSTON, so near and yet so far..to NOHO in The Silk Building.
When Rene the artist went completely ballistic after reading the NY Times review on the Picasso exhibit, calling Picasso the best artist!!!!!!!!!!!!!
He went absolutely bat shit and began painting every vacant wall with amazing expressions and always signing them,
"I am the best artist, RENE"
BRILLIANT!!!!!!!!!!!!!
We will always hold those we lost close to our hearts and memories...the 80's left a plague of barren land on the creative plain. That really was f@$!ed up!!