U.K. Women Pounce on New Fashions

By Bernice Hurst, Managing Director, Fine Food Network

In English-speak, clobber refers to clothes, particularly those that are good
quality and/or conspicuous. “Clobbered,” according to Cassell’s Dictionary
of Slang, therefore means “well dressed.” Of course it also means to either
hit hard (or be hit hard). Both definitions apply in the headline to Simon
Mills’ feature in the Guardian about the phenomenon of mass hysteria
when a big name designer produces a limited edition line for a high street
retailer.

Interviewing George Davies, mastermind of both retailers and fashion
lines including Next, George at Asda and Per Uno at Marks & Spencer, back at
the beginning of the oh-so-wannabe 21st century, the subject turned to “the
vicissitudes and psychologies of female shoppers… When women find a store
selling desirable goods at the right price they will go in and wreck it. And
the more it is wrecked, the more they will be drawn to it… and then they’ll
wreck it even more.”

Mr. Mills goes on to describe his own experience, witnessing the arrival of Karl Lagerfield’s collection at H&M’s flagship store in London. “Queues out of the door, burly security guards, women clutching multiple carrier bags stuffed with booty, women denuding chrome rails of merchandise like lions stripping meat off an oryx carcass, the brittle crunch of plastic hangers being trampled underfoot.” There were similar scenes, he says, when Stella McCartney unveiled her first cheap chic collection at H&M in 2005 and, more recently still, at Gap when a batch of Roland Mouret’s dresses arrived.

These are not isolated incidents. According to Mr. Mills (and news stories published on each succeeding launch day), Britain’s female population reverts to jungle-like behavior at the mere sniff of a designer dress. And for once, size doesn’t matter. There is no time to try things on. If it doesn’t fit, there is always eBay where prices soar well beyond cheap. Barely minutes after the store’s doors open and the first sales are registered, clothes are being re-sold online. Whether purchased for love or profit, the clothes are purchased at record speed. By Hour 2, let alone Day 2, shelves are often bare.

There are several, equally cynical, explanations for what is hopefully a phenomenon (rather than an every day pattern). Many women feel more like the celebrities whose lifestyle they envy if they “share” a designer. Others see a way to make a fast buck out of others even more star-struck than they are. Designers see a way to make a fast buck out of finding a greater number of customers through high street stores. And finally, retailers see a way to make a fast buck and get more customers through the door if they are perceived to be selling something special.

As Mr. Mills puts it, “one can’t help feeling that there is something Marie Antoinette-ish about the way that designer fashion cake is dangled in front of teeming, proletarian customers for a limited period, before it is cruelly snatched away again, only to reappear on eBay at double the price.”

Discussion questions: Do you agree with Simon Mills that women are attracted to purchase this cheap chic clothing from top designers to pretend they have something in common with celebrities? Have any experiences such as those described here occurred in the U.S.? How can retailers better handle the rush for high demand products, whether they are a new line from a fashion designer to the latest and greatest electronic gadget?

Basically, it’s all about cheap chic. As prices come down while the perception of exclusivity goes up, women may find it easier than ever to change their wardrobe (or their mood) along with the season. If wearing clothes designed by someone who also designs for the celebrities they admire makes them feel better about themselves, where’s the harm? Isn’t everyone equally entitled to look and feel beautiful?

• Clobbered! – The Guardian