After they gutted one of my favorite clubs in Osborne Village and turned it into an American Apparel, I was fucking pissed. It meant one less venue for good punk rock, and one more victory for some goddamn corporate enterprise. And man, I am soooooo all about hating on corporations. Fucking profit-driven, earth-destroying, outsourcing, sweatshop-building child molester, cop killer motherfuckers. Shit, I won't wear anything unless it's made by a some upstart solitary indigenous person, preferably based out of a cave in New Mexico. D.I.Y., bitches! So like any good anti-establishment guerilla, I avoided the store. Cursed it when I walked by. Bemoaned it's arrival over half a dozen beers at the Toad.
To cut to the chase, I'm older and lamer now, and I like cheap, plain, nice cloths. This place obviously isn't going anywhere. I've read some good things about it, so fuck it. Loyalties to the old Collective aside, I need some goddamn T-shirts. I wandered in to have a look.
PORNO!! Everywhere is porno. Pictures of oddly seductive women selling spandex. Young men also looking all too seductive selling cardigans and long-sleeve Ts. And I know you know what I'm talking about. Everyone has seen the ads (check out the mustache). But beyond the ads, which were downright embarrassing to be looking at in public rather than on the privacy of my computer screen, the layout of the store itself was quite strange. No, I'm not talking about all the unisex clothes or the fact that there is no distinction between men's and women's sections. That's been a long time coming (though I love the idea that homophobic assholes will continually wince and look quickly away despite their more pressing inclinations to follow the latest trend). I'm talking about the way the store is divided into halves, where one have is full of the plain clothes I can get along with, and the other half was full of hardcore throwback 80s wear. I'm talking zebra print spandex with the baggy sweater to go over top. And through the aisles, the hippest of hip 17-21 year olds were perusing, checking price tags, admiring the fashion that I spent most of the 90s flaming with great distain.
What surprised me about the whole event--what made me downright uncomfortable--was not the fashion itself. I've long since come to accept that there was some great stuff going on in the 80s, and while the fashion isn't my thing, I'm fine with the fact that lots of people are going to dig it. Nor was it necessarily the porno ads. It seems fashion is always pulling stunts like this, and it's nice to see human-looking models, even if they're clearly overheated and desperate to seduce me. What bothered me was how this moment in time, this pushing of boundaries in advertising, this full out retro 80s fashion, and this apparently environmentally conscious, gay positive, gender-blurring message, progressive as it is, seems lost on the fashionistas patrolling the aisles.
A good message is a good message, and I'm glad to see stores doing things the way American Apparel is, but it bothers me that all of the concepts that this store plays with seem to be ignored by the people who shop there and even the people who work there. It's the fashion that's attractive, not necessarily the message. It's clear that even without the message, these clothes would sell.
I sat on my experience there for a while, not sure what to make of it. A little bar room philosophizing has me thinking that I've just gotten older, crankier, and more judgmental of people younger than me. Ignorant young fucks. But I think what bothers me most about it is how it works to counteract some negative effects, yet markets itself with other, potentially negative effects.
Anyway, fuck it. I'll buy my shirts there, and check out some pornographic imagery while I'm there. Could do worse, right?
Fuck.
EDIT: Bah. I forgot to add a rating. 5.0 of 10 for the couch outside the changing room. Too low to the ground and too lumpy. Otherwise, very satisfying.
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