I don’t understand fashion. I mean, I see stuff around that I think looks great and exciting and, perhaps, even fabulous. But then there is the above example. This vest is a Ralph Lauren piece. I have included pictures of the designer’s tag and the price tag so you can understand how sad and confused I became.
Mr. Lauren…I don’t know who you think you’re trying to fool. I am not buying the vest that you wore during your time as an 80s hair-metal-band groupie and stage-crew member. I’m sure that it holds a lot of great memories for you, such as your many nights spent with Motley Crew on their famously decadent tour bus, from which I hope you avoided the plague of crabs.
I don’t understand how you might think that anyone would want to appear as a 40-50-something, homeless, former 80s-band groupie whose mind is stuck in his schizophrenic concept of the good ‘ole days, because that is precisely what it looks like. I do appreciate that you provided matching jeans to complete the outfit. The only things missing are the smell of cheap alcohol and urine. Are those available at the parfume counter, perhaps?
I cannot understand why some designers think that the best they can create is an old, worn, and empty sack of sh** to hang on the shelf. In addition, I cannot understand why anyone would buy this. This item may be on clearance, but it’s the only remaining piece, so someone bought a few before now. Particularly shocking, in juxtaposition, sits the respectable array of Armani Exchange pieces immediately adjacent. The crisp, stylish, design (while still largely superficial) exhibits the thoughtful and deliberate choices in how they use form and color. People that wear this clothing will look like they possess some modicum of intelligence; they will look like they have a vision of what they would like to be doing in a few years. People wearing the old vest from your closet will look like a hungover, snoring hobo in an alley that a photography student takes pictures of from a distance because he/she can’t stand the smell.
Stop being so damned lazy.
Where did I find this treasure? In Macy’s. If you have not been to New York City, like I had not before now, you may not realize that there are Macy’s store all over the place. If you are not from upstate or grew up in a rural, distant county, then you often think that there is but one mighty Macy’s store. Not true. Macy’s is also not that great, though they claim that this is the case. I have been to large department stores in Paris, Hamburg, Dusseldorf, and Zurich. Macy’s is okay.
There is a Macy’s near Main street here is flushing. The storefront does not impress, I must say. The sidewalk down Roosevelt Ave communicates filth. Most sidewalks in large cities look like that have the plague. Small, perfectly black dots pepper the concrete almost everywhere. Roosevelt also has swathes of dark patches from the liquid of garbage and spilled drinks. The whole think looks like fire scorched the length of it. The sidewalk in front of Macy’s receives no special treatment from them, and the entryway often looks dirty.
Surprising it is, then, that the interior is actually clean, bright, and fairly well organized. They stock some fairly expensive items alongside a plethora of products priced more reasonably. They even have an active-wear section that is larger than the entirety men’s clothing. In short, the store is pretty nice. The only real complaint that I have is this: in a neighborhood with more than half Asian residents, many being the first to immigrate, why do you not have Asian style bedding? This is probably not a big deal for a lot of people. I don’t really know what is popular to sleep on in China or Taiwan right now, but we were disappointed that we couldn’t find anything Asian in origin. One reason this is important is because many Asian cities are far more dense, and they have spent more time mastering the art of providing all necessary furniture while still saving what precious little space you have. A trifle, really, compared to what waits below.
Enter the bathrooms—or don’t, because they aren’t so great. Most of the time, they are okay enough, but for a company that boasts they are the greatest department store in the world and sponsors one of the best know, public holiday celebrations on TV, I would have assumed a more assertive policy on restroom cleanliness…and the funding for it. Look, that are a ton of people in the city. Indeed, the neighborhood probably has more residents than all of the last town I lived, but that’s no excuse. How about you repurpose a few of those idle jewelry and body-scent salespeople to clean the most important room in any business with public access? I don’t like going to into some place that has a fancy reputation and feeling like I’m visiting some backwater convenience store. Virginia has plenty of those, and I know exactly what that feels like.
At least they are usable. I’m just miffed because I’m so disappointed. They are better than the restrooms in the New York Public Library, of which I am referring to the actual public-use branch, not the fancy tourist-museum-actual research branch of the library. It’s dirty, and the chrome has completely left the fixtures (which are partially inoperable), and they look like they haven’t received proper maintenance since they were installed sixty years ago. That restroom is, still, far better than the worst I have seen yet. Have you ever seen the film Trainspotting? There is a scene where Ewan McGregor enters “the worst toilet in Scotland.” The restroom at the 36th street subway station in Brooklyn is only marginally better than that, but not so much.
I’m not sure how my brain took us from stupid fashion designs to disappointing department stores to restrooms of questionable health safety, but I’m sure, in my mind, there is a perfectly logical connection. I hope everyone had a great Labor Day weekend. Peace out.
Little Robot in a Giant City 