When Chris Shays announced his intention to run for the U.S. Senate next year, the Democratic Senatorial Campaign Committee quickly branded him a carpetbagger, of all things. These days, a carpetbagger is a person from out of town or out of state who moves in and tries to get elected. Sometimes, if the person is famous enough, it works. Hillary Clinton and Robert Kennedy, two successful candidates from elsewhere who were elected senators in New York, come to mind. Modern carpetbaggers are not to be confused with the shady northerners who sought to profit from the Confederacy’s distress after the Civil War and were known to travel to the region with their few belongings in a cheap valise made of carpet. Shays is of neither variety. Shays was born in Stamford, grew up in Darien and served as a Connecticut legislator and a congressman from that area for 30 years. He lived in Maryland because, after losing his House seat, he was appointed to co-chair a Washington-based bipartisan commission to study government contracting in Iraq and Afghanistan. The commission just finished its work, finding $60 billion has been wasted in the wars — or enough to finance FEMA forever. So, what’s with the carpetbagger stuff? It’s another manifestation of today’s venomous politics. If you can’t think of anything bad to say about someone from the other party, make something up — as some operative on the Democratic committee did to Shays. With years of votes in Congress and positions on everything imaginable, calling Shays a carpetbagger is hardly the best the opposition can do.A Google click would reveal he was one of the fiercest of the Iraq War hawks, second only to Joe Lieberman in his support for Bush’s mistake in the Middle East. He even denied the atrocities at Abu Ghraib were torture. But that was long ago in political life; the Bush war is now Obama’s war, so maybe it’s better to attack Shays’ valise than his war mongering.The next assaults on Shays, who enters the race as the most moderate Republican, will come from his own party. He’s pro choice, endorses gay rights and voted against the Defense of Marriage Act and the impeachment of President Clinton. And if his Republican liberalism weren’t enough, Shays also has to contend with his party’s romance with wealthy candidates willing to pick up the tab. The party has had great success with these candidates in Senate races — if you don’t count winning — so it will be tempting to let the unqualified Linda McMahon pay her own way again. The reason for this is simple. When poor candidates run, they can usually count on little or no national party support. I remember one election when the best the Republicans could do against Abe Ribicoff was an airline pilot who got 34 percent of the vote and flew away, never to be heard from again. These candidates rarely did better than the sky pilot’s 34 percent, so it was probably exciting for the party when McMahon dramatically increased that total. By spending $50 million, McMahon was able to amass 43 percent of the vote in 2010, not nearly enough to win, but if she plunks down another $25 million or so next year, who knows? Or maybe the Republicans could go one better and find a celebrity carpetbagger who’s also rich. The only real carpetbagger in recent history to run in Connecticut was James Buckley, who opposed Congressman Chris Dodd in 1980. Although a member of the storied Buckley family of Sharon, Buckley had been a senator from New York, having run as the Conservative Party candidate there in 1970 and beaten a Democrat and a liberal Republican. But when he ran for re-election — as a Republican — he lost, so he moved to Connecticut, where Republicans happily nominated him for the seat vacated by the retiring Abe Ribicoff. Buckley got 43 percent of the vote. Simsbury resident Dick Ahles is a retired journalist. Email him at dahles@hotmail.com.
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Greg Fricke and James Boehmer, co-owners of Peggy Mercury in Kent, recently launched their first fashion line, “Imaginary Concerts.”
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Fricke and Boehmer are not there to stock their shelves with the same products customers find at standard makeup retailers. They’re there to help customers find what works for them. That usually means asking customers about themselves and learning about their beauty habits, skin, style and the way they like to present themselves. Fricke and Boehmer believe it’s their job to help customers bring out the qualities that suit them and determine what works best for their look.
So much of the Peggy Mercury world is about emboldening people to become more creative, and possibly bolder, versions of themselves. Some of this comes through the store’s creative collaborations with artists, designers and stylists.
It’s part of an ethos that encourages them and their friends to use the shop as a kind of laboratory, trying out new creative experiments without knowing how they might turn out. Whether in fashion, painting, fiber arts or photography, the projects almost always turn out marvelously.
A line of sterling silver charms they sell started as a small project by their friend Nolan Percival. In the beginning, the pieces were for close friends and loved ones. But Boehmer and Fricke encouraged Percival to get a little more serious about the project and create a whole line for the store. Today, it’s one of their top-selling collections.
Classic styles, bold colors, and creative concerts make up the “Imaginary Concerts” line at Peggy Mercury.Provided
“Imaginary Concerts” has the duo taking their own advice.
The project started as a way for Boehmer to connect with his mother, who had been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s disease. Taking old concert shirts from his own collection, Boehmer and his mother began cutting out the graphics with the idea that they would make a quilt together. Unfortunately, she died before they could complete the project in 2025. The pieces, which were ready for production, were put on the back burner as Boehmer and Fricke dealt with their loss and the whirlwind of projects that never seemed to cease at Peggy Mercury.
But the harsh winter of 2026 presented an opportunity to take some time and focus on themselves. Part of that meant revisiting and redefining the concert T-shirt project. This time, instead of looking to the warmth and comfort of a quilt, they turned to another passion — fashion.
Taking a page from their own book, they wanted to create something that felt comfortable to them. They took two disparate loves — one rooted in simple preppy style, with clean lines and classic silhouettes, and the other in the nitty gritty worlds of punk rock and pop — and blended them together to create something entirely new. Pulling from the staples of vintage Brooks Brothers and Charvet collections, they applied the graphic elements with bold stitching reminiscent of punk jackets of the ‘70s and ‘80s, but with a much more sophisticated air.
But the remixing isn’t just the pairing of prep and punk. The pieces are not canon. They take liberties with the realities of concert tours, combining one band’s dates with another band’s logos, mixing them all up until the reality is lost and imagination is the only truth.
Shirts from Peggy Mercury’s first fashion line, “Imaginary Concerts,” hang on display.Provided
Adding to the mix is an element of perpetual creativity. Art can be messy, both figuratively and literally, and many of Fricke and Boehmer’s artist friends carry evidence of their work on them at all times. As a nod to these tireless creatives, the duo added haphazard splashes of bright color, giving the line an even more distinctive feel.
For them, “Imaginary Concerts” passes the “Peggy Test.” The mythical Peggy Mercury is a fictional figurehead for the company, a character who thrives on creativity and change. The name, much like the clothing line, is a mixture of interests: Mercury is a planet, a deity and an elusive, transformative element, while Peggy is the wonderfully stylish and boundary-pushing Peggy Guggenheim.
Everything Fricke and Boehmer put in their store has to pass this test: Would Peggy Mercury approve? For their first collection, the answer is a resounding yes.
Peggy Mercury is at 9 Maple St., Unit 2, Kent.
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