Obligations. They have a way of piling up.
Like this weekend: triple-booked with a black-tie tennis pro-am, a housewarming party for your Shakespeare-reciting pizza guy and, to top it all off, a Beatles album cover reenactment brunch...
No sweat. We’re slipping you a phone number...
On the other end of that line: Peep Show, a 3,000-square-foot, by-appointment-only shop of worldly curios and habiliments standing by for your call, as of today.
Herein lies your Batcave of gentlemanly pursuits. Also lying herein: that bow tie for the match, an old-world lithograph of Billy Shakespeare and a vintage military uniform for brunch—and much, much more. (Consider proprietor Ken Fulk your extraordinarily design-savvy Alfred.)
After making your appointment, you’ll arrive in SoMa, ready to be discreetly ushered into what feels like the expansive hunting lodge of a well-traveled British lounge lizard. It’s stocked with overstuffed fainting couches, a gallery of art spanning centuries and embroidered paddles that pay homage to the building’s former life as an S&M leather factory. (Seriously.)
Add to that an extensive library of rare books, one-off couture shirting from Ralph Rucci, gloves from Mr. S and an in-store line ranging from cufflinks made of old peep show tokens to bow ties handmade from vintage Hermès scarves.
And, if you ask nicely, maybe a taxidermied owl.
Like this weekend: triple-booked with a black-tie tennis pro-am, a housewarming party for your Shakespeare-reciting pizza guy and, to top it all off, a Beatles album cover reenactment brunch...
No sweat. We’re slipping you a phone number...
On the other end of that line: Peep Show, a 3,000-square-foot, by-appointment-only shop of worldly curios and habiliments standing by for your call, as of today.
Herein lies your Batcave of gentlemanly pursuits. Also lying herein: that bow tie for the match, an old-world lithograph of Billy Shakespeare and a vintage military uniform for brunch—and much, much more. (Consider proprietor Ken Fulk your extraordinarily design-savvy Alfred.)
After making your appointment, you’ll arrive in SoMa, ready to be discreetly ushered into what feels like the expansive hunting lodge of a well-traveled British lounge lizard. It’s stocked with overstuffed fainting couches, a gallery of art spanning centuries and embroidered paddles that pay homage to the building’s former life as an S&M leather factory. (Seriously.)
Add to that an extensive library of rare books, one-off couture shirting from Ralph Rucci, gloves from Mr. S and an in-store line ranging from cufflinks made of old peep show tokens to bow ties handmade from vintage Hermès scarves.
And, if you ask nicely, maybe a taxidermied owl.
