H&M
Being in the checkout line at H&M is a lot like slow death.
The employees at the cashier desk remove the hanger slowly from the garment and place it with the rest on the rack behind them. They slowly remove the security device from the garment's seam with a tool a lot like a bottle opener, which is built into the counter, and seems to cause many problems. They discuss their weekend and vacation plans with their coworkers and customers at other registers. They fold the garment slowly into an excessive number of sections and slam it to the counter in front of them, where it lies akimbo. They pick up a black phone from somewhere you can't see, hold it to their mouths sideways so that it doesn't touch their ear, and make a request for assistance over the loudspeakers that in no apparent way relates to your purchase. They slowly run your credit card and take care to place a deliberate 'X' on an already prominent signature line. One resists the urge to shoot oneself in the face.
My friend Glennon recommended this place to me, advertising it as a cheaper alternative to the Gap "where the clothes are not ugly." What became clear upon entry was that this place is extremely budget. The signs on the racks have no ostensible relation to the clothes on the racks. The clothes are cheaper than the advertising and graphic design that surrounds you would suggest. Most of the clothes are designed for people either much taller or much skinnier than myself. Is it possible that my arms are that much shorter in my relation to my torso than the population on average? The shoulders of every shirt seem to beg for shoulders narrower than my own, and yet, there is extra fabric that seems to have nowhere to go. There are no pants shorter than 32 in length. And so forth. To me, H&M resembles a large outlet store, with multiple locations throughout Manhattan, for irregular clothes.
The employees at the cashier desk remove the hanger slowly from the garment and place it with the rest on the rack behind them. They slowly remove the security device from the garment's seam with a tool a lot like a bottle opener, which is built into the counter, and seems to cause many problems. They discuss their weekend and vacation plans with their coworkers and customers at other registers. They fold the garment slowly into an excessive number of sections and slam it to the counter in front of them, where it lies akimbo. They pick up a black phone from somewhere you can't see, hold it to their mouths sideways so that it doesn't touch their ear, and make a request for assistance over the loudspeakers that in no apparent way relates to your purchase. They slowly run your credit card and take care to place a deliberate 'X' on an already prominent signature line. One resists the urge to shoot oneself in the face.
My friend Glennon recommended this place to me, advertising it as a cheaper alternative to the Gap "where the clothes are not ugly." What became clear upon entry was that this place is extremely budget. The signs on the racks have no ostensible relation to the clothes on the racks. The clothes are cheaper than the advertising and graphic design that surrounds you would suggest. Most of the clothes are designed for people either much taller or much skinnier than myself. Is it possible that my arms are that much shorter in my relation to my torso than the population on average? The shoulders of every shirt seem to beg for shoulders narrower than my own, and yet, there is extra fabric that seems to have nowhere to go. There are no pants shorter than 32 in length. And so forth. To me, H&M resembles a large outlet store, with multiple locations throughout Manhattan, for irregular clothes.
posted by Michael Deuser at 9:15 PM
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