Fashiony women love Anthropologie. I have lived in 2 cities with an Anthropologie store--one in Cincinnati, one near Detroit--and at least at the time I never would have dreamed of affording anything in it, but I liked looking at their clothes. In fashion marketing terms, the clothes are at what is called "mid price points"--a dress goes for about $300 normally. Designer clothing, but designers you would find in many American boutiques. The store's layout, usually warehouse-y and artsy, has a feel of a glamorous treasure trove.
Both in catalogs and in stores, it sells a particular lifestyle. And like all lifestyle shops, offers everything from fashion to home goods--but all in a particular aesthetic; in this case that aesthetic is a sort of new bohemian/yoga/'expensive flea market' victoriana look. Shabby chic. Which, as you may or may not know, is the type of popular home design that aims at making new things look intentionally old, or European... perfectly vintage romantic looking but perfectly new.
Now a new one has opened in Austin a few weeks ago, so I decided to drive down and take a look. I wandered through all the sections, paying attention to the layout, the clothes, the salespeople, the quiet (very quiet) music humming in the background somewhere, and suddenly I felt very... cold. There is something about it that is cold inside.
The lifestyle it sells is not just an aesthetic but an atmosphere of "you travel, you go about the world and find fascinating things that no one else can find." But there is something about this way of marketing lifestyles that feels cold and sterile, especially here. In part because it is not exactly a treasure hunt. You didn't find that Flemish-looking duvet in a flea market in Brugges--you bought it in a well-marketed, well-positioned store that sells hundreds of these.
Now I am not knocking lifestyle stores. I enjoy a visit now and then to Urban Outfitters and things like that, but even then sometimes I feel like I am being told who I am and that what I should buy from that culture to be a part of it. I took one visit to a business site that profiled Antrhopologie's "customer market" and was told basically it is aimed at a 30-something, fit, well-travelled, educated woman who is creative and may or may not have children and who wants to feel like she is a global nomad with a hip loft in Soho. The J. Peterman catalogs have been attracting the poet-nomad in us for a couple of decades and I think much more successfully because the poet who runs the store still tells the story of his origins, and of each piece he finds.
In some ways I embarrassingly fit the statistic. But I am not a market. I live the life I live out of who I am and do buy unique things everywhere I go.... but I want them to be authentic. Now this brings us to a whole other discussion--what is authentic? My personal definition of authenticity comes down to: relationship. I can sniff when something comes out of an ideal or when it comes out of a real relationship or genuine expression. Two different people can be wearing the same things or listening to the same music, but one does it out of an ideal and one does it because it is an authentic extension of who they are and their truest self.
There is lots of talk about authenticity, especially in my generation of anti-institutionalism--authentic vintage, authentic business models, authentic spirituality, etc. and has now become a sort of catch-word to attract people our age. But the heart of "authentic" authenticity is RELATIONSHIP. Things birthed out of a real relationship to each other. This is a whole other essay for a whole other time, but in the case of Anthropologie, I felt it had no relationship to me, or to the city.
Firstly, it planted itself in the heart of a district that was formerly all local businesses (and Austin is known for its local-ness). Surrounding it are with one or two exceptions many local boutiques that are one of a kind and are Austin-based. So to me it is not authentic not just because it's not local but because it's not local in a place that has long been an "Austin-y Austin". I'm not sure who made the call to rent this former warehouse to both Anthropologie and R.E.I. (the sports store)... but these stores would have been welcome in Austin up in the more suburban shopping areas where other big chains thrive--gap, Saks, Barnes & Nobles--etc. I am not sure it will survive for long in this place because it doesn't seem to respect or honor the identity of the area.
Secondly, the reception of the salespeople was if anything rather abstract and overtly salesgirl-like. I appreciate when salesgirls at boutiques are being themselves--and even if they have a quota to live up to--they are more interested in relationships than in the things their boss told them to do. Now granted, this coldness might be just the newness of the place and the unfamiliar relationships of the staff. Maybe they will grow.
But everything about it is an idea. An idea of beauty, an idea of customer service, and idea of creativity. I am not sure this idea came from a woman, either. Although it's difficult, even chain stores can still be connected to the dna and personality of their creator. But there is not very much soul underneath this store. Its a statue of womanhood, not a living woman. Which is unfortunate, because the clothes are indeed nice. But I can buy all the same brands at the boutique across the street.
