We need to talk about this and it needs to be serious.
Who the f*@k came up with the concept for the Hollister stores?
Really- I need to know. And not only that, but who approved it? Are the sales for a store that you are unable to not only see in, hear in, but even smell in, really justifying it?
Who the f*@k came up with the concept for the Hollister stores?
Really- I need to know. And not only that, but who approved it? Are the sales for a store that you are unable to not only see in, hear in, but even smell in, really justifying it?
In a desperate search for khakis last night we decide to walk in and take a quick peak around. Besides the over-powering perfume smell, the music was so loud that when an employee asked us…uh, something, we obviously couldn’t hear fuck-all.
I will concede that I am not necessarily their target shopper. I am not 14, my wardrobe does not consist of 22 pairs of the same but different show-my-cooter-booty shorts and skirts and leave-nothing-to-the-imagination-shirts (OK, I still have a few of those), nor do I feel like dropping my panties at every pre-pubescent surfer boy that works there. That does not mean that they should make it impossible for me and those like me to peruse their wares and perhaps by a gift for somebody other than myself.
But let’s continue to be honest here. I really don’t think they want me there. First, you smell the store 200 meters before you can even see the damn store front, which smells like they have spilled a gallon of what I can only compare to the present teenagers version of our Cool Water Cologne. When you finally do come up to the store the only thing you can focus on is the insanely over-sexual headless mannequins. The pants on the males are so low you are barely spared the sight of his mock junk.
Why yes, my grandma would totally buy things for her grandkids here, thank you for asking.
There is one 15-17 year old girl by the front of the store who is apparently stuck behind a table, and as I walk around the women’s half of the store I realize…I can’t see a damn thing. My eye sight is impeccable, but I’d be damned if I would be able to search for a specific color because there was nothing but low lighting. We quickly leave since The Hubby claims he’s rapidly loosing brain cells and may strangle a small boy.
Our mistake was coming back a short time later since one shirt on the girly mannequin was so cute I decided I had to try it on.
We walked in and the aforementioned girl is complaining to some surfer boy about how cold it was behind her little table (of course it’s cold, we’re in Monterey. Maybe wear something that would indicate that you understand we’re not in San Diego. Like a sweater. Do they sell those here??) I see the shirt I like on another mannequin in front of Girl, and although I am polite and say "excuse me", they fail notice despite being a foot in a half away. The Hubby says it again louder, and when they look up he asks if they work here, and the girl gives him a dirty look since they obviously do. We ask where the shirt in question would be located and they said they were out.
“What about the one on the mannequin?”
“We can’t sell clothes off the mannequins.”
"Excuse me?"
"We can't sell the clothes that are on the mannequins."
“Well that makes sense, doesn’t it?”
“Uhh…Sorry.”
As I was dragging him out of the store he began to ask if we could just steal it off of the mannequins since they didn’t care to pay attention to their customers anyways. I’m not sure how much they heard, but when we were completely out he proclaimed that that store is an example as to why some people commit suicide.
I found this on the web, comparing Hollister and Wet Seal:
DIFFERENT WORLDS.
Within the first five feet, Hollister's total experience (left) envelops you with its clean beach smell, faux beach shack facade, and outfitted mannequins all leaving no doubt what's inside for the 'dudes' and 'bettys'.
The Wet Seal experience (right) is the polar opposite of Hollister with its bland gray walls and overwhelming clutter leaving the shopper feeling bewildered and unhinged.
© 2006 Haynes & Company
Um, what Hollister did you go to? I spent part of my time during university living by the beach and I can assure you- THAT is not a clean beach smell, but rather it is an “I’m high and I need to cover the weed smell from my mom” smell. And apparently “outfitted” excludes shirts for male mannequins. Furthermore, this “faux beach shack” is more like a faux private beach house in Laguna Beach.
6 comments:
bwaaahahahaha. Hate to say it, but your fault for going in. I avoid this store, along with Abercrombie, like the plague. The unfortunate part is the robot-like 18 year olds that shop there tend to spill out into the rest of the mall, bringing the smell and the lack of brain cells with them. Bummer.
This place tries so hard to not sell clothes that I am convinced that it is a front for something else. Who wants to shop in a store that is so poorly lit that your more concerned with things that you might trip over as opposed to the merchandise. They pump so much perfume and loud music into these places that your eyes burn and your ears bleed. Also, if your going to discriminate on the basis of appearance for your employees then make their pay based completely on comission (i.e. Hooters & Strippers). I think these stores are funded by terrorist that use them to hide their finances and then they show them to new recruits to convince them to become sucide bombers. If this is not the case then the marketing company that came up with this idea and any one that approved it should be fired.
J.W.
The Abercrombie&Fitch store is EXACTLY the same. I think their clothes are uber cute so when I found out they were coming to the Village I was stoked. However my first experience left much to be desired. The smell- just as you described. But it wasn't the smell that got to me it was the MUSIC. Between the music and the dim lighting I felt like I was in a rave- they were playing techno music so loud that my body was vibrating. I think they have to use loud music, dark lighting and pungent odors to distract you from the fact that you are paying $65 for a sock.
I had really imagined that your entire wardrobe came from this kind of place. That doesn't mean you have to like the store, just that you have a leave-nothing-to-the-imagination kind of style.
OOh, snap.
It was the see-though black lace shirt from the Britney Spears concert, wasn't it?
I love how Jay totally called you out on your less is more approach to clothes. :)
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