authenticguccishoes

I do believe the sharpest tool in the shed is a man's eye for clothing and accessories. The world has changed since the Leave it to Beaver days; now men collect boxer briefs like women collect shoes. (Wink, wink)

Ross Fontenot and John Peterson, who MANeuver between the just-go-with-it look to the ever so slightly twisted classic style. Can I say, these two gentlemen of Genterie Supply Company are the big daddy of the most desirable trait in a man. They are the embodiment of cool. And while taking masterful charge of decorating their boutique, geared mainly (not manly although that works) for men, I'd say we have a modern day equivalent of Clark Gable and Spencer Tracy on our hands!

Nowadays, women like wearing men's cologne, boxers and oversized button-up shirts, so long as they let me browse, I'll be making myself at home—isn't that what women are known for anyway?

Speaking of nesting, not only do they offer organic shampoo & conditioners, neck ties, shoes, saddle bags (man-bags), but there are a few antique pieces for sale, along with furniture built by Ross and John for displays. Who knows, maybe you could talk them into creating one for you. Stop by for a father's day gift or just to look around—you won't be sorry and I can guarantee you'll be impressed.

Genterie Supply Company is located downtown Lafayette at 210 East Vermilion Street, between The French Press & Recycled Cycles (two other spots to check out). Call for details 337.401.3833. Hours are Tues-Sat 10am – 7pm and Sun, YES SUNDAY, from 10am -4pm.

Happy Buying at Genterie Supply Company! Hey, your Dad is worth the best, right; and most importantly isn't it best to bring your Dad up a level or two to coolness…. I'm just sayin'.

How much is your high school athletic career worth?

That is the question an Anne Arundel County teenager had to decide last month after winning $5,000 in a putting contest at a charity golf outing.

However, before 15-year-old Garrett Sauls, a freshman at South River High School, could think about a spending spree – perhaps a new putter, some wedges and new tennis shoes – his father realized that accepting the money might present a problem.

Taking the money, Rob Sauls said, might affect his son's amateur status and his high school and collegiate eligibility.

“The funnest times of your high school career are playing high school sports, at least it was for me,” said Rob Sauls, a 1977 graduate of Annapolis High who played lacrosse there and at Anne Arundel Community College. “I didn't want him to take the chance of not finishing his career playing high school golf. You can't put a value on it. I don't remember who was in my math class, but I remember who my other attackman was.”

Though there is no way to predict just how successful Garrett Sauls might be on the golf course, he said it would take at least $25,000 for him to give up high school golf or the chance to play Division I college golf.

Sauls won the putting contest at Lake Presidential Golf Club in Upper Marlboro on May 16 by successively making 15-, 25- and 35-foot putts at the turn.

This past fall, Sauls was one of the top golfers at South River, but he did not qualify for the state high school tournament and his average of nearly 48 strokes per nine holes is unlikely to land him a spot on a professional tour anytime soon. Still, the 5-foot-7, 130-pound teen has a goal of playing golf in college and does not want to affect those chances.

The NCAA allows Division I prospects to accept money to cover tournament expenses and entry fees. NCAA Division II and Division III potential athletes are able to accept prize money from events such as putting contests without affecting their eligibility.

The U.S. Golf Association, which oversees various amateur championships, is slightly more lenient, allowing contest winners to accept up to $750 in gift certificates and retain amateur status.

The most restrictive governing body in Sauls's way would be the Maryland Public Secondary Schools Athletic Association, which oversees public school athletics in the state and says athletes are ineligible if they use their athletic ability for financial gain. For many golfers, though, playing for their schools is secondary to playing in junior tournaments around the region and the nation.

“I think, and [Garrett] is not going to agree, it's a good life lesson,” Rob Sauls said. “He'll have the opportunity to earn a lot of money if he goes on to play college golf or possibly play professionally.”

Of course, Sauls has heard the suggestion that he could just take the money or have it given to his father and worry later if one of the sanctioning bodies thought something improper had taken place.

“I was thinking [of taking it] because you wouldn't really get in trouble unless you get caught,” said Garrett Sauls, who added that he has yet to be contacted by any college golf coaches. “It's like in college football, those players, sometimes they get paid.

“If you know you're not good enough, then you take the cash. I'm no superstar or anything, but it's still in my mind that I have the possibility to play.”

It was not the first time a high schooler won the hospital tournament's putting contest and declined the money. Hall Chaney said that in addition to passing up the putting contest money in 1999, he also passed up a new Ford Explorer for making a hole-in-one during another outing.

“I made the right decision at the time,” said Chaney, who was entering his sophomore year at Key School and later played one year of golf at the University of Delaware. “I was more worried about the NCAA. I had full intentions with going ahead and trying to play golf.”

After making the first two putts – stepping off the distance of each – Sauls spent more than one minute surveying the final shot as a small audience watched quietly from the side of the putting green, though no one offered advice for fear of breaking Sauls's rhythm. Though he considers himself an average putter at best, Sauls said he was confident as he struck the ball.

“There was a little turtle shell in the middle so I had to go straight over top of that a little bit,” Sauls said. “And I had to maintain my breathing, my heart was beating pretty fast with that money on the back of your mind. You try not to count it up yet because you haven't made the putt yet.”

To look at them, Diane Irvine and Mark Vadon are a business odd couple.

Irvine, the chief executive of Seattle-based Internet jeweler Blue Nile, favors dark-blue suits with sensible shoes, keeps her short blond hair tucked neatly behind her ears, and sticks to her talking points.

Vadon, Blue Nile's executive chairman and co-founder, prefers jeans and boots, rarely shaves and talks off the cuff.

"I'm the disorganized, chaotic person," Vadon says. "She's very well-put-together and organized. We've always been a good complement to each other."

But when Vadon met Irvine, he wondered if she might be too buttoned-up.

It was 1999 — the booming dot-com era — and Blue Nile needed a chief financial officer. Vadon, then the CEO, sought help from a headhunter, who produced some 30 candidates. Among them was Irvine, previously the CFO of Plum Creek Timber.

While Irvine impressed Vadon in interviews, she won the job only after grabbing a beer with the Blue Nile staff at Kells pub near their Belltown offices.

"Back then, the company was mostly 20-somethings wearing jeans and T-shirts. Maybe she shows up and sees what's going on and runs out screaming," he remembers thinking.

"But Diane can drink beer with the best of them."

Irvine, a married mother of three, went on to become president in 2007 and CEO in 2008, when Vadon stepped down from day-to-day operations to provide strategic direction.

Last month, Blue Nile reported its seventh straight quarter of year-over-year sales growth, after being hit hard by the Great Recession. It posted a first-quarter profit of $2.4 million on sales of $80.2 million, up 8 percent from a year ago. Its stock, which dropped below $20 in 2009, currently trades in the mid-$40s.

"After sales declined 7 percent in 2008, people weren't sure she could right the ship," said Internet analyst Herman Leung, of Susquehanna International in San Francisco.

"Starting in the second quarter of 2009, she turned it back into positive territory," he said. "She gave consumers a wider range of products at different prices and expanded a little bit more into the nonengagement-jewelry segment."

Irvine, 52, grew up on a farm in Illinois as the second of five children. The family raised cattle, as well as chickens that produced some 4,000 eggs daily.

"My job, when I got home from school, was collecting and washing eggs," she recalls. "I also drove a tractor for my dad, baled hay or did whatever else needed to be done. It was a lot of hard work, but I kind of developed a work ethic."

That discipline is reflected in Blue Nile's balance sheet. Last year, the company's overhead costs stood at 15 percent of sales, roughly the same as in 2009 and 2008. It ended 2010 with $113 million in cash, up from $78 million a year ago.

If there was any lingering doubt about whether Irvine belonged at Blue Nile, it was erased on Sept. 11, 2001, when she, Vadon and three other employees walked to a meeting with diamond suppliers in midtown Manhattan.

After only two blocks, they saw smoke coming from the Twin Towers and returned to their hotel. They spent the next few hours watching TV news, assuring friends and family they were OK, and at one point meeting with an Israeli diamond supplier who had survived the Holocaust.

"I'll always remember the smell of smoke and all the posters of missing people," she says. "There was just this overwhelming sadness."

On the third day after the terrorist attacks, they rented a Ford Expedition and began the 3,000-mile drive from New York to Seattle. (Although a government ban on commercial air travel had been lifted, new passenger flights were slow to resume.) Taking turns behind the wheel, they arrived home in 46 hours.

"Mark, being the data- driven person that he is, had a spreadsheet of every driver's mileage and the time it took them to drive that far," she says of Vadon, laughing. "I only got one shift because I didn't drive fast enough."

Now, Irvine must steer Blue Nile through a shaky economic recovery, as well as changing attitudes about marriage.

A recent study by Pew Research shows today's young adults are slower to marry than their counterparts in older generations.

Engagement rings account for nearly 70 percent of Blue Nile's annual sales, so the delay in marriage among "millenials" could be bad for business. Only 22 percent of those between 18 and 30 years old are married, according to Pew Research. When GenXers were the same age, 30 percent had tied the knot. What's more, 25 percent of millenials aren't sure they want to marry, including 5 percent who claim no interest in marriage.

In an earnings call last month, a financial analyst asked if the royal wedding had prompted more people to buy jewelry from Blue Nile.

"Lots of interest for sapphires," Irvine replied, referring to Kate Middleton's blue-sapphire engagement ring.

"We'll see if it inspires more people to get married, though," Vadon said.

Still, Irvine isn't waiting around. Blue Nile's 2011 offensive includes a broader array of nonengagement offerings, such as colored gemstones, pearls and sterling silver. The new offerings are meant to draw more women customers.

"This will be the most aggressive product launch in our history," she told analysts.

It's a direction that Irvine — one of a handful of women CEOs at publicly traded companies based in Washington state — seems uniquely suited to take. While men remain Blue Nile's core customers, women are a big untapped market.

"More than half of our traffic is women," she says. "Many times, they're building rings and emailing them to their significant other. We want to cater to men, but expand the audience."

Recently, Blue Nile moved its corporate offices from Seattle's Chinatown International District to Pioneer Square. During the search for a new headquarters, Irvine briefly considered downtown's financial district.

What did she not like about the financial district?

It was too buttoned-up, she decided.

ON a Wednesday: "Ma'am, your cab is here," I said to a woman who shook her rumpled mane, which had a barely connected hair clip dangling in the back.

"Where are your, um, friends?" asked another woman — dressed in a gold lamé minidress and bright white thigh-high boots — who was helping me get the woman out of the booth.

Ms. Mane pointed toward the restrooms. "Where are my car keys?" she asked.

"You can pick them up tomorrow," I said, knowing that technically you cannot deprive someone of her personal property — it's against the law — but chances were that she probably wasn't going to call the police, at least not tonight.

Ms. Lamé and I finally located the friend (and the friend's newest friend) by the bathroom. After allowing the friend to compose herself, including straightening out her hair and putting on some clothing she had sort of misplaced, we loaded the group into the cab and sent them on their way.

I then turned to Ms. Lamé.

"Thank you so much. That went a lot easier with your help."

She picked up her Pellegrino water. "No problem," she said blinking a very black eyelash nonchalantly.

9:50 p.m. that same Wednesday: "Hey!" I yelled, causing two heads to pop up from two women's midsections. Both women were lying on their backs on the bar booth table. "You guys can't do that in here!"

"Why not?" said one of the men, wiping a trail of drool from his face.

"Those ladies have had enough, and we don't allow body shots."

I was suddenly in a brief argument with the two women, exclaiming such phrases as, "No, you can't," "You aren't getting anything else to drink," "Yes, we have your car keys."

If it wasn't for the intervention of a woman in a gold lamé dress and white thigh-high boots, the conversation could have gone round and round for 10 minutes.

I looked at the clock; 10 minutes to closing. Thank goodness.

9:30 p.m. that same Wednesday: I glanced again at the lady in the white boots and gold mini-dress sitting at the bar. People don't often dress like that unless they are looking for attention. And often times that attention can be bad.

Meanwhile the two women sitting in the adjacent booth were starting to squeal louder and louder. Gone were the eyeglasses and most of their inhibitions. The two gentlemen who had been sitting at the bar abandoned their barstools and now, armed with several shots of tequila, moseyed on over.

9:15 p.m. that same Wednesday: "We are going to take that booth," said a woman with her brown hair held up neatly by a leather hair clip.

"Yes," said her blond friend, peering over her eyeglasses. "Please send our bottle of wine over."

Well, so much for our conversation, one that had encompassed the fact that both had advanced college degrees, both were in their 40s, unmarried and heavyweights in their respective fields. Too bad, I thought, it had been articulate and intelligent, whether it was about the wine or about the weather.

8:50 p.m. that same Wednesday: The three women sat at the bar almost simultaneously, but not together. One was wearing a skintight gold lamé dress and white thigh-high boots, and while her dark eye makeup made her appear slightly sinister the rest of her attire produced a different feeling altogether.

The other two — calmly self-confident and wearing designer jeans, carrying demure but pricey handbags, accessorized tastefully but not heavily, and with no wedding rings — were clearly self-made career types.

Subconsciously I made a choice. I helped the two women first, even though they all had sat down at the very same time. An expensive bottle of wine later and I turned to Ms. Lamé. I made a mental note; I'd better keep an eye out.

By the end of the evening, I had two thoughts:

. There's no such thing as "just another day" in the bar business.

. Over the years I have learned that the people who first look like they are going to be trouble usually aren't, and the people who don't usually are.

One of Ahwatukee's most anticipated day of events proved a success from sunrise to post-sunset.

The 16th annual Festival of Lights Wine & Beer Tasting Festival on Saturday drew nearly 1,000 guests clad in colorful sundresses and shirts to the Foothills Golf Club clubhouse and expansive lawn.

They noshed on area restaurant offerings and sampled more than 50 wines and beers, while keeping a close watch on coveted silent auction items such as the framed and autographed Steve Nash jersey with its starting bid of $700.

"I bid on several items but I don't think I'll win anything," said Connie Nelson-Askew, executive director of Ahwatukee Foothills Family Y, who was attending with her senior program director, Sandra Franks.

Looking about the crowded room and the outdoor deck, Nelson-Askew said she was thrilled with the enthusiastic involvement of residents.

"When I think of all the volunteers it takes to put this together - well, it's amazing," she said. "They always do an incredible job. What I really love about this, though, is how it brings the community together."

FOL Committee president Kristine Kemper signed her name as the opening $75 bid on a pair of fashionable Ed Hardy sunglasses valued at $250. Her bid was quickly exceeded, but she was too busy to return to the auction table.

"I think it's done as well as it's ever done," Kemper said of the fundraiser. "We never, ever get any complaints, but we get tons of compliments."

Throughout the evening, those who attended recalled the main reason they were there.

"I love the holiday lights every year; that's why I put my blood, sweat and tears into this," said Jackie Klecka, FOL committee vice-president and former University of Phoenix public relations specialist who is the Festival of Lights spokeswoman this year. "We had a successful Kick-Off (November) this year and now this, so it helps us breathe a little easier."

The morning's opener - the annual Charity Golf Tournament hosted by the FOL and the Kiwanis Club of Ahwatukee to benefit area charities and services - brought 56 players, a far cry from the days of 100 teams. Temperatures that started in the upper 70s at the 7:30 a.m. tee time had golfers seeking any sliver of shade by noon when it reached near 100 degrees.

"Seems the Arizona summer has finally arrived," quipped Jim Crouch, Charity Golf Tournament chairman, former FOL president and husband of the current FOL president.

Though San Tan's Ford F-150 pickup truck at the 16th hole beckoned, no player made the 162-yard hole-in-one necessary to win it.

"Once again the Ahwatukee community came together in support of the Festival of Lights and the Kiwanis Club of Ahwatukee with sponsorships and prizes that helped raise several thousand dollars," Crouch said. "That money will help the Festival of Lights continue the holiday-light display again this year, and help the Kiwanis Club fund several programs for kids in our community - two causes we care deeply about."

Library's Summer Reading T-shirts Have Become a Palatine Symbol

You see people wearing them in the supermarket, at the Y or at the summer festivals in Community Park. Children wear them, and so do their parents – those colorful T-shirts the Palatine Public Library awards to those who complete its summer reading program.

“I think it's a source of community pride and unity when you see people wearing the shirts,” Library Director Susan Strunk said.

“It shows they've participated in something in the community,” adds library Communications Manager Andrea Lublink, who designed this summer's T-shirt and the previous two.

The Palatine library began its summer reading program in 1989. T-shirts were given away for the first time in 1995; that year's design featured rainforest animals. The library decided that the prize should be something a person would use, not a tchotchke that might be tossed in a junk drawer, said Gayla Swansen, manager of the popular materials department, which administrates the summer reading program.

The Friends of the Library, which has been affiliated with the Palatine library for more than 60 years, agreed to pay for the T-shirts. “It's a great incentive,” said Friends President Ann Marquardt. The Friends raises money for the shirts through its used book sales.

The library has given away more than 4,000 T-shirts every summer since 1998 except for 2005, when the total was 3,818. The year with the highest participation was 2002, when 4,933 T-shirts were awarded. That summer's T-shirt had a patriotic design. Each summer, elementary school children receive the most shirts – an average of 2,723 since 1998 – but the number of T-shirts awarded to adults has risen from a few hundred in the program's early years to more than a thousand.

“Kids are so proud when they get their shirts,” Marquardt says. “And the adults, too.”

The program's theme changes every year, and so does the T-shirt's design. Summer reading shirts have been adorned with cowboys, superheroes, undersea creatures, movies reels, safari animals, tikis, haunted forests and rock 'n' roll guitars. “People look forward to whatever it is,” Lublink said.

This summer's theme is “A Midsummer Knight's Read” (for the last few years, the Palatine library has used the same summer reading theme as the Illinois Library Association). Lublink, who started at the library as a graphic artist, began working on the T-shirt design in March. “The theme really drives what graphic images I use,” she said.

This summer's navy blue T-shirt features a gold dragon sleeping upon a treasure trove of books. A knight and princess lurk in the background. Lublink knew from the start that she wanted a dragon on the shirt, but adds, “We didn't want a scary dragon.”

Registration for the summer reading program began Wednesday, June 1. The program concludes July 31. A Palatine library card is required to sign up.

This summer, for the first time, the library has taken the program online. “We're trying to make it as easy as possible for patrons to sign up and participate,” Swansen says. “We're excited about the online. We think it gives an opportunity for people who can't always come in.”

Instead of filling out a log sheet, participants will track their progress on the library's website. Another change this year is that the program will be based on the number of pages read (the goal varies by age group) rather than the number of books. Patrons can visit the popular materials desk behind the central staircase for assistance with signing up and maintaining their summer reading accounts. “We want to give that personal service,” Swansen says.

When participants reach the halfway point of their reading goal, they will receive coupons from the Buehler YMCA, Jason's Deli, Medieval Times, Photo's Hot Dogs, Spunky Dunkers and Sonic Drive-In. But the T-shirt that comes at the end remains the grand prize.

Many area libraries have summer reading programs, but only Palatine awards T-shirts. “It's something that sets us apart and makes us unique from any other community,” Strunk says. “It's part of our brand.”

The main reason other libraries don't give away T-shirts, Swansen says, is because they are expensive prizes. This summer's shirts will cost the Friends of the Library $3 apiece. “You have to have a Friends board that's really willing to fund them,” Swansen says.

If T-shirts are left over at summer's end, the library donates them to charities in developing countries. Strunk once received an e-mail from a patron who visited an orphanage in the Mexican state of Baja California and was surprised to see a group of children wearing Palatine library shirts. The patron took a picture of the children and sent it to Strunk.

Closer to home, the one place you are most likely to find people wearing previous years' T-shirts is the library itself. “We see them all summer long,” Swansen says.