There was a pivotal moment when I was much younger, when I started
to question what the trendy clothing stores actually thought of the people that
were frequenting them.
It was the first time I had ever walked into an Abercrombie
& Fitch store. Up until this point in
my life, I saw no need to awkwardly wander into a place that was filled by
employees that were so beautiful, I was intimidated by them. That day however, I was compelled to. A couple of years earlier I had just ended my
long-haired, ratty denim grunge phase and by the time I got my driver’s license
and the sweet sense of freedom that came along with it, I was gravitating
toward the other end of the spectrum by becoming a preppy fashion victim. So I
felt the need to utilize my freedom and glimpse into adulthood by shopping in
all of the cool places I was too chicken to walk into before.
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| So... how long is it until I turn 21? |
This specific pilgrimage to one of the many meccas of Trend
was to get a pair of these cargo pants I saw being worn by all of the muscular,
tanned, shaggy-haired cool kids. Walking
in, I knew I found the right place, but I wasn't sure if that was a good thing –
never before had I felt so intimidated and self-conscious at the same
time. The walls were plastered with
black & white photos of people with rippling abs, wistfully trotting
through wheat fields… and the clerks walking around the store looked just like
them... one of which I remember not
wearing a shirt at all. The people
around me, in person and print, I had no problem with – that wasn’t what was
bothering me. Hell, if I looked like
that, I’d probably try to walk around shirtless too. The problem was the substantial vibe, the feeling that I
just didn’t belong there – that I wasn’t exactly their ‘target market’. Less than five minutes after I entered, I
exited with the pants I so richly desired.
Once I was back home with them, I took a gander at the 100
page catalog that the girl behind the counter automatically stuffed in the bag with
my new hallmark of coolness. I was too
busy to object to the catalog however, her cleavage commanded my full attention. Hey. I
was sixteen, ok?
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| Fellas, even NOW you wouldn't be able to look away. |
Thumbing through it, I noticed the content was more than
just pictures of khaki shorts and rugby shirts.
Every twenty to thirty pages, there were what I could best describe as
articles, written about subjects geared for the type of person that the A&F
corporate offices seemed to think would shop there. One specific piece caught my eye. I can’t remember the title of it exactly, but
it was something along the lines of:
“Items Every Abercrombie & Fitch Guy Needs In His Dorm Room”
I was naïve at the time, so I read on – it seemed
interesting. While the majority of its
content has, by now, been lost into oblivion, a few items stuck out and have stayed
with me ever since that fateful day.
-A couple pairs of tightey-whities (so you can hide your
“excitement” when you’re on a date).
-A copy of The Shawshank Redemption (so women think you're deep).
-A golden retriever named Jack.
-A copy of The Shawshank Redemption (so women think you're deep).
-A golden retriever named Jack.
Something else about that list stayed with me – the memory
of what I thought immediately after I finished reading it, “Wow. That was fucking sad.” Keep in mind, this
wasn’t a fully-grown, socially-conscious adult having that thought, it was a
naïve suburbanite at the tender age of sixteen.
I don’t know what disgusted me more; the fact that they
thought every guy that shopped at those stores was a mindless genetic lottery winner
that took a break from beating off in front of a mirror to bore society with
his hotness, or that type of person might
actually exist and had probably followed that list to the letter.
That assumption about their customers was well illustrated
by the tighty whitey part. Who the hell
came up with the idea of needing tight underwear to hide a hard-on during a
date? It’s a date, not a damn lap
dance. The higher-ups not only thought
the average Abercrombie & Fitch customer was a mindless brute, but also
felt he had caveman testosterone levels that made him think “MM… YOU HOT
GIRL. ME FUCK YOU NOW!!!” Hey Bam Bam, you forgot to tip the waiter.
Now onto their idea of someone buying The Shawshank Redemption to only put it on their shelf for others
to see. It’s as if Abercrombie & Fitch
customers were such one-dimensional jocks, they would need to display a movie
in their bedroom that made them seem like they don’t just think about the next
time MTV’s The Grind would come on. I
could imagine an advertising executive putting his hand on a college kid’s
shoulder to make his twisted advice sound more heartfelt, “Come on, Trent. You’re too simple to actually LIKE a movie
that doesn’t involve one single explosion or shower scene… so just buy it and
leave it near your TV, and maybe she’ll see it.
It’s not like she’s going to quiz you on it while you’re on her!
Right?? *nudge nudge*”
When it comes to A&F thinking every college guy should
have a golden retriever named Jake… I’m not going to even bother with that one. Describing my hatred for that assumption would
end with me jumping in my car and going on a cross country rampage, and I need
to replace the rear shock on it before I go on any kind of road trip, whether
it involves news-worthy rage or not.
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| Where the HELL did I leave that damn rocket launcher?? |
Now I’m not saying that was the day I stopped shopping at
trendy stores. Not at all. The jeans I’m wearing right now probably had
a price tag of over $100. The t-shirt
I’m wearing was aged artificially. The
button-down shirt that’s draped over the back of my chair was ordered directly from
Perry Ellis – I still appreciate the need to look nice. What I’m saying is that the people that run
these companies should stick to what they know: clothing. The moment they wander into the territory of
the demographics’ lifestyle, that’s when you start to get the advertising campaigns
that make the general public roll its eyes.
From Buckle and H&M, to Hot Topic and everyone in between, they're all
guilty of reducing their view of the public to the lowest common denominator.
I guess the same could be said about a lot of other markets. We’ve all seen those late night commercials
that depict people getting frustrated while fighting a losing battle against simple
objects like a blanket or a broom. Then
again, people that find those 3am infomercial products useful might actually have trouble halving a
fucking bagel.
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| Now Free with Order: Endless ridicule from your friends! |
