Cator Sparks went to Atlanta this weekend and all we got was a strange lookin stuffed animal: Now I know Mother’s Day was the real reason for heading down South for the weekend but my secret super excitement was returning to Sid Mashburn’s stellar store. I first took a spin through his menswear store last year when I was living at home working on the book. My boy from Charleston, Jim Nolan, introduced me to Sid when he was showing me around the new White Provision’s development in downtown Atlanta. I got a bit twitterpatted upon entering. The space is basically how I have always dreamt my menswear store would look. Sid is gracious as can be and every other gentleman working for him is just what we like about the South, calm, cool, witty and has a drawl that will smack any Yankee down with its sweetness. For some reason unbeknownst to me I couldn’t make it to Sid’s at Christmas but this time I called Sid in advance to make sure he would be around to chew the fat. As you can see from my pictures, I was on a mean hunt for a bathing suit. The one piece is hella fun but my other two tame trunks have become a bit faded. I think I’ve had that damn Villbrequin for so long that it’s about Ville-broken. Sid whipped out an array of Sun Dek’s and Birdwell’s in various sizes, shapes and colors and I decided upon the emerald Sundek and the navy Birdwell. Score! We then went on a mad march for a new weekend rolly bag (Minya will be poppin off about this news) and I ended up ordering a Filson I’d been eyeing for quite some time. I clued Sid into the new sizzling Anna Wintour documentary ‘September Issue’ which really got his goat since his wife used to work under Polly Mellon at Vogue. Apres my shopping spree I couldn’t get kicked out of the nest just yet so I milled about checking out his custom suits, ties, brogues and accessories. I also noticed Sid sporting monk straps with one buckle undone. Is that a Sid-sclusive look or was it borrowed from Agnelli? I can’t recall. Alas I had to head out for cocktails but it was hard to leave this den of debonair. Who else offers anyone who walks in the door a ‘Co-Cola’? Where else do the sales people pick out the vinyl for the turntable? And where else do you find a stuffed polecat, er cat, er weasel sporting a bowtie bandana? Pics after the jump.