So, I’ve been here coughtwocough years now and I’ve learned a few things. First, always have two pair of shoes- one for walking and one for impressing your coworkers. Second, just because the bartender announces half-price cocktails before the show, that doesn’t mean you have to drink ALL of them. And lastly, if you haven’t been to Intermix and/or Barneys, you are an embarrassment to the fashion community. I was that embarrassment. Intermix and Barney’s are staples of new york fashion- they host designers of all sorts and if you haven’t been, prepare yourself for looks of confusion and slight disgust upon announcing that no, you havent been there. 524 looks of disgust later, I decided last Thursday to cross those stores off my list.
The day started like any other- though, I decided not to wear my Converse high tops and instead go for some standard black flats; there was only so much judgement I was prepared for, as no one in these stores wear anything less than $200. I arrived at Intermix in Soho feeling good- I had bought a coffee, I walked leisurely to the subway and I even opened the doors to Intermix quite gracefully, if I do say so myself. I browsed the racks and carefully inspected each garment. My initial instinct is to always look at the price tag, and if it’s reasonable I then see if its something I actually like. You can’t do that in this store. Oh no, customers here don’t look at price tags. I overheard one woman say, “Should I get the blue, the black or the brown? I just can’t decide. Alright, I’ll get all of them.” The blue, black and brown were $500 each. My motto for the day was, “fake it till you make it.” They have no idea you only had $100 in your bank account this morning- and $89 of it just went to your metro card and another $1.25 for your coffee.
Anyways.
The difference between expensive stores and cheap stores is the customer service- in expensive stores, they dont leave you alone. Maybe its the commission. Maybe, in my case, they think I’m going to steal something. Either way, it’s annoying. The sales lady kept following me around the store offering tidbits of information that I could really care less about. “Oh, that’s our most popular dress!” “Oh, you like Stella? She came in the other day.” “Oh- shirt dresses are so on trend this season!” “Oh, are you looking for something in particular?” To save face and to indulge childhood fantasies, I stacked up a pile of beautiful clothes and made my way to dressing room, which is in the middle of the store and has one of those curtain doors. I hate curtain doors. The sales lady insisted on standing outside the curtain and making conversation. I tried on the first outfit- a completely gorgeous Zac posen dress that I would willingly give my front tooth for. The sales lady was still there and upon me saying, “oh this looks good,” she whips open my curtain door and takes a look up and down and says, “oh yes! you muuuussstt get this!” Ok thanks. and I take back my curtain. Second outfit- I’m having a little trouble trying to figure out which way the sleeves go and and lose track of our conversation. The silence and grunts, no doubt, prompted sales lady to whip open the curtain once more. I wasn’t ready for this- I didn’t even have the high-waisted Chanel cigarette pants on yet! It’s a good thing I wasn’t wearing my Batman underwear that day, which I tend to do on my days off. I glared at sales lady and the rest of the store who were privy to my undergarments and cellulite. Thank you, Intermix. I left immediately.
Part II
Barneys! It’s in every New York movie and every fashion tv show and after my Soho annoyance, it was time for uptown. Barney’s is like a palace. Whatever you want- it’s there and the escalators glide you from floor to floor, price point to higher price point. I landed on the Third floor with designer collections and eveningwear aka heaven. It didn’t take long before I was bombarded with sales ladies and their millions of questions. Was I visiting? What was I looking for? What was my budget? Was it for an event? I pretty much made up everything. I didn’t have a budget, didn’t know exactly what I was looking for- just wanted something that “felt right,” I’m only in town for the day and yes, it was for a party and I was just soooo bored with everything I had ever worn. It was easier than I thought. These women were running around the store picking out dresses that they hoped would “feel right.” And I ran my hands down racks of glorious fabrics, beautiful seams, and price tags no less than $1200.
I eyed the dressing room- again, curtain doors. WTF. Well- I’m sure the lady at Intermix was just eager for a sale. Surely, no one here would walk in on a customer. I found another Zac Posen dress that I would willingly give my other front tooth for, an Erdem and YSL evening gown that I’ve only seen in the movies. I went into the dressing room and tried on the Zac Posen- I think i cried a little. Next, was the Erdem. That dress was like a dream, something I had never seen before- I cried on that one too. The sales lady tried to make conversation outside the curtain but I thought my one-worded answers made my point. Apparently not. Just as i had zipped up, the curtain flies open. Trying to seem like I was used to this, I just smiled. I asked her for the next size up, as it was a little too tight. I asked her to get a size 6. ”Size 6?!” No, you’re not a size 6!” “Yes, I am- please, a size 6.” “There’s no way!- a 4 at most.” “Well, this is a 4 and so I need something bigger- so a 6.” “ok- ill be right back.” She returns. I try on the new size. It seems tighter than the previous but it can’t be, because it’s a size larger. The dress gets stuck on my hips and literally, won’t move up any further, so I decide to try putting it on over my head. Standing in bra and underwear, I put my arms above my head and try to wiggle it down. Still, incredibly tight and it gets stuck at my shoulders, my arms still straight up for fear of ripping the seams. This time, it’s really not moving and I can’t get my fingers to reach the fabric so I can pull it back up. I can hear sales lady’s footsteps, “how is it?” With the little vision I have poking out over the dress, I see her feet beneath the curtain and can sense the impending curtain-whipping-open. I begin to panic. “Uhhh, its great, uhhhh I saw this strapless purple and blue dress downstairs- can you go get it?” “I don’t think we have anything like that.” “Yes, you do- I just saw it! It’s downstairs next to all the black dresses. Please, go get it??!” I figured her searching for my non-existent dress would give me enough time to shimey out of this toy-size dress. I held my breath and tried to weasel my way out. It wasn’t working and now I was really panicking. My panicking made me start to sweat and i was becoming hysterical. I was stuck, in a wad of fabric, arms over my head, underwear exposed, in Barneys, where they would have to cut me out of the dress and then I’d have to pay $1500 I didn’t have for a dress I had destroyed before I bought. I had to get it off. I arched my back to wiggle out and I heard a seam pop. I let out an, “oh fuck,” and heard another seam pop. I heard her footsteps- she was quicker than I thought. In one swift movement, I lifted my head out and shoved the dress over my shoulders, hips and butt- three more pops and the dress wouldnt move over my crotch line and there was no way I would be able to zip it. I looked like a saran-wrapped marshmellow. She flung open the curtain and looked at me as I stood there sweaty, hair stuck to my forehead, and showing rolls and lines I didnt know I had. The look of sheer horror and disgust she gave me was enough to make my heart stop. She handed me the purple and blue strapless dress (I thought I had made that up?). I mumbled a thank you and waited as she backed away and closed the curtain.
Mortified and on the verge of tears, I rolled the dress back over my head, hearing more and more seams fall apart. There was no way I could pay for the dress and I figured I would simply hang the dress back on the hanger and run away- at full gallop if I had to. I rushed to put on my clothes. After hanging the stunning dress that I did absolutley no justice to back on the hanger, I saw that the sales lady had not given me a size 6, but rather a size 2. Thank you, Barney’s. I left immediately.
