Editor's Note (written at the request of the author): Several weeks ago, I visited Canal Street in New York City for some shopping with girlfriends. My frequent “No thank you,” replies to the onslaught of hand-shoving “Tiffany! Tiffany! You buy? You buy?” catcalls clearly indicated I was out of my element. Thirteen blocks of this mayhem had me wondering if we were in search of the Holy Grail, but I did not think there were religious icons in the backroom I found myself in that evening. I browsed, nonplussed, at the display of ordinary pocketbooks, while two secretive Asian women cast furtive glances at each other and slipped our twenties into small black pouches. Later, in the car, I looked at my purchase rather ambivalently. “Is that a Coach bag?” came a loud squeal from the back seat. “OH MY GOD!”

With that in mind, it was great fun to read the following piece by Doug Mathewson, who has a sharp sense of humor and a keen knack for weaving words.

Life could be worse, much worse. He could still say “Professor Jacob Bernstein, Former Chair of Literature, Cornell University”, and there were his publishing credits (not that there was any actual income from either source). But more importantly, he was working. Working, able still to live in Manhattan and continue teaching. So many colleagues and acquaintances of his approximate age and tenure were being herded quickly towards “early-retirement,” “buy-out-packages.” Exile. Sentenced to a living death. Shepherded to their quiet demises. Extinction would a more accurate description. Teaching jobs, good or bad, were quite a rare commodity in this economy, and being an elitist English Literature Professor no longer an option. Things were different now. Times, sadly, had quite changed.

Jacob was a very good teacher, by anyone’s standard, always tailoring lesson plans and curriculum to best fit the class. He truly cared for his students and what they would take with them for years to come from his classes. This was a major challenge indeed, his incoming classes would be very different. The So-Ho Institute of Fashion Evening Program offered a far more exotic group of students than any Ivy Grad-School could ever hope for. When hired he was told repeatedly that twice “Project Runway” has filmed at the school and with a bit of luck he might have a cameo appearance in an upcoming spring segment. “Fashion Institute Professor of Literature” had a quirky ring to it. He liked it, even if it was a rather hollow ring, maybe a 60’s ring. “Think “Blow-Up”, think “Zabriske Point,” he said aloud,“ and all the other art-house movies of that delightful decade long past, there is you key.” Why should the classics of literature, particularly American literature be so ham-strung by tradition? Making literature relevant to new generations was so much more vital than upholding long established traditional interpretations of novels. (Yes, he would make things different, as different as need be to make his classes work. A new generation, he always had felt, should see with new eyes. “I’ll start with the driest material”, he mused, “and see just how we fare.”

“So, my dear young friends, Hester Prin refused to wear her Scarlet Letter. It was shaped entirely wrong for her face, the color clashed with everything she owned, and it limited so severely what she could do with her hair. It was a difficult fashion problem, but problem for The Courts as well, since she was obliged to wear this tacky inappropriate bit of flair. The more reasoned settlement was eventually reached. A solution of which some of you may be aware.” Smiling to himself, Jacob continued “Since the only charge she was actually convicted of was Contempt of Court she would wear two “Cs”. She would not actually wear them on her outfits (since there could be no guarantee it would work any better than the initial Scarlet A) but rather on a large shoulder bag, or any other accessory item, she might carry or wear. And that, class, is how the ‘Coach’ brand was born oh so many years ago. We still see Hester’s influence today. In many fine stores, as well as popular knock offs, sold buy enterprising street vendors thought our fair city,” he concluded, his confidence now renewed.