Friday, November 13, 2009

A Masstige Not For Me: Reflections On Jimmy Choo for H&M

Tomorrow, with the release of their Jimmy Choo collaboration, H&M can cut another notch into their masstige bedpost. Personally, I think this is the second-to-worst collab from H&M, with Madonna's tracksuits more than earning the bottom rung. For the first time in several seasons, you won't find me outside an H&M tomorrow as I think each and every piece is far too clubby/LA and far overpriced for being a hair above Zara.

But these beliefs didn't stop me from doing my job of checking out the products at the H&M 5th Ave as they sat, guarded, in the window. After some "ha"-ing to myself over what hype they've managed to generate from such not-that-great stuff, I walked up a block before turning around to head south to my subway stop. It was when I walked by the H&M this second time that a cute little scene played out in my path, and now sticks in my head.

Scene: (Fifth Avenue sidewalk, rush hour at dusk)
I am dressed in all black and walking south at a fair clip, navigating the tourists on Fifth Ave when I approach a clearing at the entrance of H&M. I hear a man calling out "Bunny! Bunny!" and the odd name causes me to glance to the source of the voice. It is an older, well-fed man in a tailored black suit, with whisps of grey hair that calls to mind Bernie Madoff. He is holding open the rear passenger door to a black towncar, parked at the curb directly outside of H&M's doors.

Standing on the sidewalk, frozen squarely between the towncar and H&M's doors is a an older woman with excellent posture, poised to take another step towards H&M. She has silver hair, pulled back into a tight and perfect ponytail, and she's dressed in a well-tailored black skirt suit, with a little swing to the skirt. It suits her excellently and she just oozes money. I look from her back to the man at the town car, and then back to the woman. In this second, her indecision is palpable; whether to ask the husband to wait a moment while she inquires about the Jimmy Choo in the window, or to retreat and go home.

The woman does exactly what I expected and hoped of her. She briskly turns on her heel and climbs into the towncar, essentially wiping away her curiosity of the Choo and H&M connection. That is all, and that is how I too feel about this--meh.