Under the Influence

Yesterday I had some great finds at Treasure City Thrift. I'll tell you all about what I got, but this post is about something else: one of my treasures was a $4 pair of jeans made by a brand exclusively (as they say) for Barneys. They're beautiful, amazing jeans and they fit me just about like all my other non-maternity pants fit me: close-enough/I-don't-wanna-think-about-it. They're my usual size though, so it'll probably work out. But buying something with Barneys New York in the tag made me suddenly aware that I have a bit of a history with that store, or at least a funny, one-sided relationship.

All stores want you to feel a certain way when you walk though them. Stores like Urban Outfitters and Free People set a cool, rebellious, youthful mood. Anthropologie is young but more nostalgic. Places like Dillards and Steinmart try to make you feel sufficiently rich and lovely at the same time as practical and like you're going to get a good deal. Then there are stores like Nordstrom, Saks, and Neimans that go for rich, pampered and able to afford it. (whether you really can or not doesn't matter.)

Some of the higher-end stores tend to make me feel inadequate (at least money-wise) or fat, or like maybe I shouldn't have worn what I'm wearing, or just plain sad that I can't afford anything in them. They make me feel wishful about life, but in an "I'll-never-be-that-skinny-and-rich" way, not in a fun way. Not all stores do that to me, and I'm sure I shouldn't give any of them that power, but succumbing to marketing strategies is something of a twisted hobby I have. It's fun. But Barneys is a little different.

Don't get me wrong, they're still that kind of store. In Dallas at the mall, I used to walk through Barneys all the time on my way to less astronomically expensive places, and not a single salesperson ever even spoke to me! Of course, that's Dallas anyway, but in the equally snobby Neimans or Saks, even on a bad hair and clothing day somebody will talk to me.

When I walk through Barney's though, I suddenly realize that I am feeling the way all the other fancy department stores are attempting to make me feel when I walk through them. But the others don't quite do it. Maybe it's the chic, modern yet over-the-top chandeliers in Barneys, although other stores have those. Maybe it's the fact that Barneys is a smaller store, where I am physically closer to the merchandise- to the feel and color of the fabrics and the smell of the leather and perfumes. Maybe it's the fact that there is a lavish, sweeping staircase instead of an escalator, or that they have a much smaller beauty department because they're more selective about the brands. There are wonderful lounge corners with interesting chaise lounges and love seats. The over-sized velvet chairs at the bottom of the staircase always haunt me, attached somehow like Siamese twins, and remind me of some daring, haute couture Alice in Wonderland.

The whole store strikes the perfect balance between being seriously, snobbishly rich and letting you almost forget that you're not. It makes me wishful about life in the most fun, inspiring way possible. In Barneys I remember what I routinely forget in other high-end stores: that good taste and an imagination matter a lot more than having and spending lots of money. So in a way, I already have what they sell. Not so much that I don't enjoy dreaming of $80 eye shadow or an extra $1300.00 to buy that lovely-smelling leather train case. But I am inspired, excited, content to smell the leather, touch the silk and go home with new ideas, thrilled to have seen so many beautiful and luxurious things all together in one place.