Departmentalizing Department Stores

Something rare happened this week. I went shopping on West Wilshire Boulevard, right by Rodeo Drive. Nope, I still haven’t worked up enough nerve to tease myself with the opulence that is Rodeo Drive, the cornerstone of Beverly Hills shopping; but I am getting close. I made stops at three of the biggest names in luxury department stores: Barney’s, Neiman’s and Saks. Never mind what I was buying, or wasn’t buying for that matter. I would like to talk about my experiences.

First I went to Saks. I entered and I walked through a shoe department that had more salesmen than patrons, none of whom were excited to offer me any help. At the front door there was a shoe sale rack. The shoes were allegedly organized by size. But after sifting through the 9-9 1/2 section I recognized the shoes were in no particular order, just sloppily strewn up on the metal rack. I was surprised that Saks would let this be the first thing customers walking through the front door would see. It was a sea of popular designer shoes from Fendi, and Christian Louboutin, to Jimmy Choo and Prada. Seeing them in such a state of terror really took away some of the “Sex and the City” enchantment surrounding the brands. I was quickly bored and decided to head upstairs and check out the Contemporary department. By this time I have been in the store for about 20 minutes and no one had offered to help me or even greeted me. This is, might I add ,the same Saks that Winona Ryder infamously stole all those clothes from a few years back. I always wondered why a celebrity of her stature would steal clothes. I figured she must be some sort of kleptomaniac or something. But after this experience, Golly! No wonder she stole an approxiamate $20,000 worth of merchandise out of this joint. The people who work here will ignore you to the point you will be willing to do just about anything to get their attention. I was thoroughly annoyed and decided to head to Neiman’s.

At Neiman’s I was immediately greeted with warm eyes, a smile, and a "Can I help you?”. The lady in the Contemporary department admired the green sweater I had on. She said I looked beautiful in green and suggested I try on some of the green dresses that were on sale. I didn’t buy any of them, but I sure tried them on. Unfortunately the selection at Neiman’s was disappointing. But the service was so great, had I been able to find something I liked I would have bought it. Oh well, off to Barney’s.

I walked in the front door of Barney’s and entered the main level. I swear I heard angels singing. I looked up and saw a beautiful winding staircase, to my left makeup, and to my right, Mecca… the shoe department. “Hello” was in the air. Everyone was so friendly. The sale rack was neat and organized. Nothing like the “hot mess” I encountered at Saks. I ended up purchasing a few things and walked out swinging bags and humming contently. I felt like Goldilocks. Saks was too “ugh”, Neiman’s was too “ho hum”, but Barney’s was “just right”.

I had to go back into Saks to get my parking validated. I was not happy, I didn’t want to wait 30 minutes for someone to notice me just so I could get validated. I held my head up high and marched in the main door. The same salesmen that had ignored me before were tripping over themselves to greet me this time. I looked down at my chest, I was convinced I was having a wardrobe malfunction. No, all was intact. What was different? Oh, I had Barney’s bags, duh. It wasn’t until I had these accessories that I looked like a paying customer. A tall middle aged man with a mustache walked up to me. His hair was slicked back and he looked like a used car salesman. “May I help you with something, Miss?” He asked, almost salivating at the mouth. “Yes”, I said with a suspicious smile “you can validate my parking”.

Btw, Barney’s is having an amazing sale… check it out www. Barneys.com

Confessions of a Mass Murderer: How I killed music

The year—2000, age—19, the crime—free music downloading. It was the hay day of Napster. CD’s that had cracked in half, gotten scratched beyond any sort of playability, mysteriously went missing after a party I had hosted, and even those I never bought but always wanted were right at my finger tips. Sure, it took several hours to download a full CD, since my internet speed was so slow; but music, for the first time in my life, was free—I was free. And it was in that unbridled autonomy that killed music

.

Sure, the monotonous playlists offered by payola ridden radio stations played a huge and undeniable role in the death of music, but there is definitely blood on my hands. To better understand my role in the death of music let’s talk about how I used to get CD’s.

In prehistoric times there were these places called ‘record stores’. They could be found in shopping malls with names like “Sam Goody”, and were settings for cult classic films like “Empire Records”. My favorite record store was a little known shop called ‘Record Service’, located in the heart of the University of Illinois’ campus-town. It was what I considered one of the many advantages of growing up in a college town. This independent record store was filled with many genres of music from rap and pop, to zydeco and acid jazz. On the back wall they had records-- real vinyl records. Nowadays I don’t even know where you can go to buy vinyl (besides a garage sale or a thrift store).

There were listening stations where you could listen to an entire album before you bought it (much more satisfying than the 30 second snippet offered by itunes). The employees were super cool off-beat college kids who were in bands, and had listened to every record in the entire store. I could walk in there and say things like “what’s good?” and it was more than just a meaningless greeting. I’d get answers like “Oh, you gotta check out this cat Roy Hargrove”, or “Erykah Badu’s gotta new album coming out in a couple weeks”. This is how I found out about a lot of the artists I love today.

As a freshman in college a friend and I waited outside of Record Service for the midnight release of D’Angelo’s Voodoo album, which we had prepaid for anticipating it selling out. I don’t do stuff like that anymore. Maybe because I’m completely jaded, and finding good music nowadays is something similar to looking for a diamond in a landfill (although I do appreciate Maxwell’s latest contribution). Buying music online, or even downloading it for free is not the same! It’s like buying a Louis Vuitton bag in a back alley out of some guy’s trunk versus buying the same bag in the store (not that I’ve ever personally bought a Louis Vuitton bag anywhere, but never mind that). You are completely robbed of the experience. And now that record stores are outta the way, how do we hear about new music? The radio? Music videos? Maybe an underground blog if we are lucky? Womp, Womp!

By downloading music I have taken the democratization out of the process. I usually download old stuff, or music from established artists. I can’t remember the last time I discovered a new artist from downloading, or “surfing itunes” (again… womp ,womp). I’m sure this makes things more difficult for the artists out there who are starving trying to make it to the top. Music is far less subject to individual tastes, and now the evil corporate labels have even more power to influence our decisions. iTunes is not a virtual music store, not even close. It’s an online commercial vendor, completely controlled by the corporate giants for the purpose of promoting their interests; and worst of all… I help them do it.

And this is how I killed music.

Support your local record store, if you can find one…