Sohollister
There are only three places darker than hell when the hell fires burn out--an S&M club at 4 a.m.
, Zentai (NYSE:ANF) , and now, lycra zentai Hollister. I have never been to an S&M club or hell, but I have been to A&F and Hollister.
The Zentai template for success is simple--turn off the lights, turn up the music and take off your clothes. It has worked so well that sister store Hollister is going one better, by doubling those efforts. Will it be successful? Hollister opened last week on Broadway, just below Houston Street, in New York, making it the first store South of Houston Street (SoHo). The lines suggest that it will become a destination spot in a neighborhood full of destination spots like Topshop, Bloomingdale's, Prada, Desigual, H&M and Forever 21. Hollister appeals to the A&F crowd, but is distinguished by its slightly smaller price points, younger-looking sales staff and more-revealing product.
Hollister caters to the surf crowd. Okay, Im a native New Yorker, all I know of the beach I learned from when Giget was wiping out with Moondoggie, but I do know that surf, ski and skate attire are important fashion statements these days.
At Hollister last week, there were slews of families in from Jersey, tourists and locals checking out the new space. In fact, Miss Rhode Island even made an appearance. Adults were overheard to say, oeLet me out of here! while their pre-teen prodigy waxed rhapsodic over flannel, which only goes to show you that some people will buy anything. Hollister didnt miss a trick; there were cute girls in bikinis and cuter guys in surf shorts posing in every nook and cranny. To create oebuzz, collegiate-age model wanna-bes were strategically placed by stairwells in packs, making the store appear more crowded than it actually was. Bars use this strategy during happy hour, too.
On every landing (four floors) there were couples hanging over the balusters welcoming customers. I received nine greetings of oeWhats up?, five oeHey, how ya doing?" and three respectful, oeCan I help yous (as in, oeHey Grandpa, are you in the right store, you look lost!"). The question remains, can you trust a 19-year-old in flip-flops, red surf shorts (sans undies), sunglasses and a zinc-oxidized nose to offer an unbiased opinion on whether the blue and gray, or red and gray flannel tank top is hotter?
With a reported 40,000 sq. ft. of sales space, there is ample space to shop. The store is set up in a series of predictable little rooms, almost like you wandered into
catsuits some strange meandering mansion, come library, come antique store, come gentleman[#x2dc]s clubhouse. The rooms are set off a center hallway, with clichd low-hanging chandeliers, leather wing back chairs, potted palms, Pendleton blankets, antique luggage, non-working billiard tables acting as merchandise tables, and stacks of surf magazines. The store is not signed, but sepia graphics by Bruce Webber reinforce the nascent sexual tone. There are no mannequins, just dressmaker forms, stained in vintage tea. The dressmaker wheels were removed so that forms dont move. The dressmaker forms are poorly made, lacking bosoms and hip, or any musculature at all. Visually, it was not imaginative. It was predictable.
Technology promised to be a central focus. Indeed, its one promise that was kept. Huge monitors are split up into faux windows that border the perimeter of the store, giving customers a wrap-around view of the California Huntington Pier and the adjacent shore. Its a bold stroke, and is visually arresting--customers are transported to the Southern California (SoCal) coast, where waves crash and surfers hang 10. It looks as real as an Imax. As you venture into the store, the city outside disappears, and one feels that the shore might really be outside. In truth, its just a Getty parking lot.
Will abdominal muscles continue to draw in the crowds? Well, sex sells. I did find it disturbingly lurid, and there was a sort of an oeick factor to see little girls and boys no more than 7- or 8-years-old, posing with half-dressed models. Is this retail indoctrination? Well-meaning parents were snapping photos right and left. Would I really want Grandma to see my 9-year-old with her hands around some guy with his navel
zentai practically in her face? oeSay cheese!
--Ron Knoth, Guest Blogger
by: catsuit
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