Jezebel
One of the most wonderful things about my tiny apartment is that it is located right down the street from one of my favorite places in New York: The Rem Koolhaas-designed Prada flagship store in Soho, which, had it been around in the late 1950s, would probably have taken the place of Tiffany's for the stylish, sad-sack Holly Golightly. As much as I love to loiter outside, fantasizing about the fashions on display behind the store's enormous picture windows, actually stepping foot inside unleashes my deepest sartorial insecurities: Not only can I not exactly afford the silken turbans of yesterday and the orange fuzzy coats of today on display, but apparently this fact is something known - intuited, at least? - by the store's severely-suited salespeople, who seem to regularly play retail Darwinism, casting disparaging glares at visitors who have "no reason" — meaning: no bank account — to justify being there. So I decided to embark on what I decided to call the Pretty Woman experiment: visiting the store in different states of dress to find out whether I would be treated differently based on my appearance.
1. On August 11th, I dropped by dressed, essentially, in my pajamas: Leggings from Target, oversized red flannel shirt, glasses on, matted "morning hair" tied up in a knot and nary a lick of makeup. Clad in this ensemble I did not garner negative attention, I immediately noticed, but no attention at all. No one said hello as I pushed the heavy door open myself, took a quick turn around the floor, and then proceeded down the stairs to the footwear level. Several salespeople mingled among the high-priced shoes: It was a Saturday afternoon and the fall/winter styles had just arrived in stores, so it was prime shopping season. I lingered for what seemed like forever before the display of the trend shoes of the season: The ombre patent Havana-heeled pumps, the multi-hued colorblocked sandals. I picked them up, examining their heels, their soles, their prices. And still, nothing. After a few minutes I gave up, headed back up the dizzying, seemingly floating blond wood stairs and headed on my merry way. I thought I heard one of the security guards mumble, "Have a good afternoon" as I stepped out the main door and into the midday sunshine, but that could've been wishful thinking.
2. Two days later, I returned, this time dressed to the eights (not nines: I was, uh, wearing Target flip-flops) with a long, creamy Vivienne Westwood skirt belted over a black, v-neck tee. I had on mascara, eyeliner, even blush: No grooming detail had been overlooked, and as I approached the store, the door opened for me, almost magically. I had hardly a moment to register the accompanying "good afternoon" when a sales clerk appeared and asked if there was anything she could help me with. (Success! Maybe I could leave?). I thanked her for asking and began strolling through the maze of clothing on the floor below, surrounded by knee socks and logo-stamped bags at every turn, taking my time (I was a "lady of leisure" after all!) and at each different clothing rack, it seemed, found another sincere, smartly-outfitted shopgirl. Eventually, I decided it was time to tackle footwear, and lo and behold, the second I stepped foot on the shiny, black floor of the department I heard a warm, welcoming voice, not unlike that of a fairy godmother. I asked the saleslady if I could see the object(s) of my desire: The season's new open-toed pink and black ombre Havana heels of earlier mention, with the thick elastic strap that sits across the front of the foot. "Do you have them in a 39?" I asked. Her face clouded with worry, "Ooh I'm not sure. Let me go check right away and see what I can do." She emerged moments later, looking practically crestfallen. "We only have them in a 7 1/2 and a 9 1/2. Do you want to try either of those? Maybe the 7 1/2 will work?" I asked after the 9 1/2 and before I could even blink, she emerged with a shiny black box. I slipped the shoes on: Magic. Pure magic. I walked, strutted, and skipped around the shoe floor. Every once in a while, my guardian angel peeped around the corner to check on me. "No rush! No rush at all!" she insisted, warmly. I pranced some more. And then the saleslady emerged again, informing me that she had just learned that these very shoes were 1 of 2 pairs (the other being the 7 1/2, naturally) left of this style in the entire city of New York.
Needless to say, I capitulated, and, for the first time in my life, bought something Prada. It was sick: At the checkout registers on the main floor, I simultaneously giggled like a schoolgirl and almost teared up. Hypnotized by the combination of shiny things and someone willing to give me the time of day, I had fallen under the luxury-market's spell, dropping dollars faster than you can say "The devil wears..." But I guess one could look at it this way: someone's gotta actually pay full price so Anna Wintour can continue to get her clothes for free, right? Was I duped? Possibly. But better-heeled? Certainly.
Comments
are these the selfsame prada shoes that the september elle made you rush out to buy? because, dude, pictures please.
In L.A. they're not foolish to judge on clothes, or matted hair. They judge by your shoes.
Not to rain on the parade, but while I could buy full price Prada, I never do. It can be found on sale every season, nearly the entire line, at any of the Majors, online or offline. Usually Atlanta's Saks has a goldmine of sale items. I'm wearing Chloe's $1200 coveted Paddington boot today, in caramel (which they haven't done since they unveiled it in the collection two or three seasons ago), picked up for $600 at Saks in Atlanta. I rarely pay retail for designers like Prada, Gucci, Choo, etc. Louboutin is the only one you absolutely have to buy or you won't find, usually.
i enjoy the idea that i have $600 handy to go utilize your tip.
You can try the same experiment and get the same results at Bergdorf, Barneys, Bloomies, B Bar, Blockheads, Best Buy, and your local bodega. (Oh, wait, you're in Soho and sans bodega so I guess Gourmet Garage for you, but it breaks up the alliteration.)
Oh they totally judge.
Also, I'm glad you had the ovaries to go in there with a flannel shirt and leggings. (Seriously, when I first read that, I thought "Olsen twins chic")
I've always wondered about that story Cindy Crawford was shilling in her Supermodel halcyon days: That she once ventured into the make-up counter void of a major department store in sweats and sans make-up and one cosmetics counter saleswoman told her, "Oh dear, you could look so pretty with just a little make-up..."
I rarely buy full price for shoes (hangbags yes) so I usually do Bluefly. They have great looking knee high Jimmy Choos boots right now for 400 bucks! Dark brown and light brown. You're welcome.
Eternal respect for even going in there. I live in a much, much smaller city and get Pretty Woman'd at shops not a fraction as worthy as Prada.
I just scoured the internets for some pics and if they're the shoes I think they are, I want to cry tears of joy for you and your purchase.
Unless you have rent control and moved into your tiny SoHo apartment with a view of the Prada Store, in 1959, I am certain you, dear madam, can afford to shop there. Good day! I say good day, sir!
@ Mel's Diner - just because we have the money doesn't mean we have to be silly with it :)
you can write those shoes off, yes?
Of course they profile customers... as they do in electronics stores, car dealerships, banks, clothing retailers, department stores...
@the schef: Fo reals. Am I the only one here who's not rich? All you regular rich girls criticizing Hollywood rich girls for being rich.
Isn't a size 39 almost exactly a 9 1/2? Why on earth did that saleslady think the 7 1/2 might work?
I swear, you cannot get good help these days.
You just need the Prada connection. My friend gets most of the sample items including coats, shoes, belts, wallets, etc. all for free. 90% of the time if is perfect, especially the coats and accessories.
@Patricia2:
I agree. Someone should try Jennifer's experiment in LA. And I wish I had your shoes.
to really put a spin on things you should have gone dressed in your target leggings/flannel etc. and threw them for a loop by wearing an expensive diamond ring/watch and then see how they treat you!
@SarahMC: I'm poor sweetie. Well, not poor, but too poor to get anything remotely designer. I never post on the fashion posts because I have absolutely no clue what anyone is talking about. I've never set foot in the Prada store. I go to Target and order things off OldNavy online. I feel at the height of uncomfortable in any of those higher-end stores.
@SarahMC: Yeah, I'm in the same boat...err steerage? The thought of spending $600 on shoes is mind-boggling to me, though not judgmentally. I would love to have the OPTION of doing it. But alas, unless Clinton and Stacey show up with a Visa with my name on it, I'll be a DSW-shopping lady.
Yeah, but the salesgirls(and boys) are still working in retail. I find some comfort in reminding myself of that.
@SarahMC: I'm not rich, and I assure you that in my eights, they'd still ignore me at Prada, and many places less worthy. On the other hand, I get awesome service at Williams-Sonoma and The Container Store. I must exude a certain fashion-deaf mid-level affluence that calls to the staff there.
@SarahMC: Add me to the not rich pile. And, sadly, wearing Sofft comfy black heeled sandals from last year that will have to be retired for good come Labor Day.
Target skirt. Ratty Hermes scarf in my hair from second hand shop. But, hey, at least it's Hermes!
I prefer to prance around in $30 Skechers and, y'know, pay rent.
you had me at Prada.
according to my father 500 shoes are for people who drive not pedestrians like me
I think it's a general higher-end thing, and I do this same thing with customers that come to my store but to a lesser degree. It's also funny that what will get you service in one store, won't in another one. I went to the Marc Jacobs store on Bleecker once and got a greeting and an offer to start me a fitting room and when I went to the Marni store next door I was completely ignored. There were 3 of them in there, not doing anything and I didn't even get a greeting. I looked at every pair of shoes they had there and no one offered to get me a size. I think they are the snobbiest of the lot.
I get stressed out shopping at Prada-type stores. Even when I get carte blanche from the Mr. to buy some shoes or a bag, I start sweating at the thought of emptying $600+out of my bank account for a pair of shoes. I'm getting cheap in my old age, but at least I haven't succumbed to the 'early bird special'...yet.
TrayDay, AMEN. And GodBlessDSW. $412 Marc Jacobs shoes, marked down, marked down, marked down - COUPON = $50.
On the upside, Prada is accepting of flip flops.
You need to walk yourself over to Canal Street and meet some new people. Your new friends, and Village Voicer Lynn Yaeger, will inform you that a PRAGA looks just as awesome as a PRADA.
@trayday: Yes, DSW! They have cute shoes and bags.
I like Bluefly's selection, but not the prices. If I'm going to spend hundreds of dollars on something it will either be rent or furniture.
@ineffable.me: Can I tell you that in the 26 yrs I've lived in NYC, I've never set foot in a designer store? Not once. And I do get satisfaction in that they work retail. I mean, I work a shitty office job that's demeaning, but hey at least I don't have to kiss rich people's ass.
I always go shopping looking my worst. Biker boots, babydoll dress, ratty hair and shades. It does wonders -- I always get mistaken for someone (more) famous.
When I was looking for a suit for my wedding (it was not going to be formal) I thought, "I've always wanted a Chanel suit so now's the time to splurge." It was winter in Chicago so my mother and I were wearing regular winter coats (no fur of course). We were barely in the door when a saleswoman stopped us from going any further and said "we don't have anything in this store for you."
You so don't have to be rich to buy designer anymore. You just have to know when and how to shop, and leverage the web to your advantage. There is so much overstock now and so much accessibility. You can find good designer brands like Gucci, etc. for $200 - $300.
My prada heels were $650 retail, I paid $250.
My balenciaga boots were $1200 retail, I paid $450.
I have chloe's bow flats - $550 retail I think? I paid $250 and got a code, no tax, from an online store.
It goes on and on.
Bluefly is terrible. Shop the majors - barneys, neimans, saks. Saks and Barneys prices are usually the best. Bergdorf generally has everything higher (and its the same stuff you'll find on neimans too). Net a porter.com can be a really, really good source. Satineboutique.com. Scoop's online site. Never forget the offline stores of the majors either - Chicago, Vegas and Atlanta are gold mines for high end on sale because they don't get picked over like big markets (NY, LA). Madison in Los Angeles is also good for sales and now has an online store.
You have to know when to hit them - if it's fall/holiday, it'll be right after Christmas. Pre-spring in march, summer in august, etc.
Get on their email mailing lists and check the message boards.
@SinisterRouge: I work retail and I'm fucking tired of kissing rich people's asses, and there's nothing I want more right now than a shitty office job. sigh.
the grass is always greener?
@SarahMC: I know, right? I fell madly in love with a pair of Michael Kors boots at Macy's last year and it took me two months to get up the nerve to actually buy them (after comparing prices online, in cities without tax on clothes, etc). I also waited for the sales coupons to come out and managed to pay about $250 and they're the most expensive thing I own. $400-600 is just out of my league.
This reminds me of that Simpsons episode where Marge buys a Chanel suit at a thrift store and suddenly she's the toast of the town, only to eventually realize how terrible she felt getting wrapped up the superficiality of the designer brand.
Sometimes the Simpsons cut to the core of me.
Theres something charming about a knock off. It says you're concerned about status but are not willing to break the bank to achieve it.
Poisoned toothpaste and lead toys not included.
@ineffable.me: Before this shitty office job, and I mean shitty, low-end office job I worked 5 years retail and it was not luxury retail. I wish I could get up at 6 and unload a truck most days. I miss retail! Ugh.
@SarahMC: Pff, I'm not, especially while living in NYC. I, for one, love posts about the new Target designers... as much as I love designer clothes, I also love, um, paying rent.
I feel like I missed something.
Woman goes to a store centered on how you look, and is shocked when how she looks is used as a basis to judge her.
@Patricia2: Dude. $250 is still too much to spend for some of us.
I feel better knowing I'm not the only poor schlub.
@BarnOwl: right on
@Sushiwriter: I know, right?
@SarahMC: I agree with you, if I pay $450 for boots, they'd better dispense ramen and beer, because that's more than I pay for food for 3 months.
Wait, isn't Jennifer the one who's like, 23? This article me feel as badly about myself as I would have had I actually walked by all of the "tiny" Soho apartments and visited the store itself. Now that's citizen journalism.
@Patricia2: My eleanor grosch limited edition keds were $25 on ebay. Yeah, that's how I roll.