Alec Ginsberg Knows its “Not About the Specific Headband.”
“People want to walk in her shoes and shop where she shopped,” the owner of C.O. Bigelow muses on Carolyn Besette and the crowds brought in by Love Story.
Outside the Village, no one knew where Carolyn Bessette got her signature tortoiseshell headbands until 2023, when a TikTok influencer from Norway ID’d C.O. Bigelow and Vogue followed up with a fact check (“It's True—You Can Buy Carolyn Bessette-Kennedy's Exact Headband in Greenwich Village” read the headline).
“This has been going on for over two years,” Alec Ginsberg, C.O. Bigelow’s owner and chief operating officer, clarifies in response to the recent flood of press coverage. “We’ve had to make sure the hair accessories are stocked, and the rest of the store too.”
At his desk overlooking the pharmacy’s main floor, Ginsberg gestures to the accessories counter near the entrance that’s prone to bottlenecks—but not gridlocks. The 188-year-old apothecary’s tight passageways invite tactile exploration. “You can see people moving around,” Ginsberg says, simultaneously pointing out the obvious and hinting at the man-bites-dog appeal of the story for media outlets.
“The idea is to get people to come experience the store,” he explains. For that reason, C.O. Bigelow purposefully reserves the majority of stock for IRL shopping. Revenue is up across the board as a result—an effect that almost certainly wouldn’t be seen if the tortoiseshell wares were as easy to buy in bulk online as most viral trends.
The view from Ginsberg’s desk.
Ginsberg identifies one uptick that outpaces others, in sales of Bigelow-branded products that aren’t headbands.
“It resonates with people,” he says of the toothbrushes, aromatherapy sticks, and tinned salves stamped with the “ logo. “I’m always encouraged to see that that’s what people are excited about,” he says, “Because it means they had fun and they’ll hopefully be back.”
Souvenirs suitable for everyday use are one savvy way to make lifelong patrons out of passersby drawn by buzz—or an earnest desire to emulate the departed style icon’s je ne sais quoi.
“It’s not about that specific headband,” Ginsberg says with conviction. “People want to walk in her shoes and shop where she shopped. The store hasn’t changed—the accessories are in the same spot as they were in the ‘90s.”
Ginsberg cites The Odeon and Panna II—two other CBK-fever hotspots—as further evidence that what’s going on at the accessories counter is unusual for what it says about consumers, brick and mortar retail, and institutions like Bigelow.
“This is a one-of-a-kind phenomenon,” Ginsberg admits. “I’ve never seen anything like it, and I don’t think it would have been possible 15 years ago.”
It’s safe to assume that C.O. Bigelow won’t be shifting its strategy in response to this frenzy or the next. Ginsberg is the fourth-generation owner and the business partnership with Charles Wahba—the maker of the tortoiseshell headbands—originated in the ‘80s with Alec’s father, Ian. Charles’ son Joey is Ian’s main contact now, but aside from that, the relationship remains the same as ever. Alec insists there’s been no discussion of increasing supply to meet demand.
“They make as much as they can and we buy it,” he says. “Not everybody’s trying to scale to be a billion-dollar company, he says before adding:
“They’re a family business, like us.”
The newest member of the C.O. Bigelow family.
C.O. Bigelow is open every day of the week at 414 6th Avenue.
