A funny thing happened to me when I was meeting a friend for lunch. Hollister (the “California Surf” brand of A&F) opened a new store on Fifth Avenue in New York City. I had recently cut my hair short in a Navy JAG style to beat the summer heat and I was wearing a short sleeve shirt and black slacks. After lunch, I walk into the store and start looking around.
One German tourist (tall, tanned, built like a fitness model and with deep blue eyes) asks me where some type of Polo shirt is – I tell him I don’t work there. He apologizes and moves on. This happens about five or six more times. Then, the same thing happens with actual employees! I wind up buying a polo shirt, a t-shirt and a pair of sweats. I go to the checkout area – the guy behind the register rings me up and says, “I gave you the employee discount.” One never disputes a discount, so I high-tail it out of the store.
“OK…” I think to myself, “… this is a really nice ego boost, but let me see if it’s sunspots or some other localized aberration.”
The flagship Abercrombie and Fitch store is four blocks further up Fifth Avenue. The store has a velvet-rope line of customers waiting to go in that stretches around the block and up 56th street. Two doormen/guards – acting like it’s some exclusive club – let a few people in at a time. I walk up to the guards, give them a smile and stroll right in.
Unlike Hollister, there are no half-naked male models on the stair landings or out in front of the A&F store, but I get the same results as I did before. I didn’t press my luck and buy anything – after all, even I have limits – I’m not paying $38 for a t-shirt!!
I’m on a roll. There’s another Hollister store down in SoHo. The next day, I go down there and see if this “lookalike” effect is still holding true.
The downtown store in on about five levels, and at the time I’m there, there aren’t that many customers around. Nevertheless, the same thing happens again.
“Damn – it’s NOT a coincidence!”
What was it about me – that in a sea of drop-dead handsome, tanned, muscular guys – and the salespeople are just as stunning as the customers – that I’m the one singled out as being in charge?
Undoubtedly, you’ve seen the soft-core A&F catalogs and more often than not, the guys are usually falling out of their clothes rather than modeling them. I got on their mailing list and was able to pick up a couple of A&F short-sleeve shirts, tees and polos for under $12 each on clearance.
I’m going to be brutally honest here – you need to be in really good shape to pull off wearing this stuff. Buying a larger size and letting it “drape” doesn’t cut it. 
My friend Dave said, “If the shirt fits … it’s not tight enough.” and he’s completely correct.
These clothes are cut to be worn open or half open and to accentuate your body. The short sleeve shirts I bought really show off my guns and pecs and really don’t fit correctly unless half the buttons are undone. That's me to the right - what do you think??
Looking at the delectably hard and muscular bodies in these stores, I got to thinking of the people that can’t wear this stuff. Perhaps you’ve heard of “globesity” – the worldwide epidemic of overweight people. Working in Manhattan, I definitely do not see 61% of people being fat.
When visiting other parts of the city, however – I DO see the problem. I feel a little sluggish when I put on five pounds – how do these people feel when they are carrying around 20, 30, 50 pounds or more?? Most of it can be attributed to poor diet and eating behaviors. One of the best exercises is pushing yourself away from the table; an exercise which few people are familiar with.
Take for example, this woman. I got my coffee (black, no sugar, one Sweet n' Low) and sat down to read the paper. She ordered four breakfast burritos with all the toppings, three bagels with cream cheese and two large coffees – I doubt she was buying breakfast for her office when she waddled out of the store and leaving gravitational eddies in her wake.
Does this post sound a little vain? Perhaps. I'll be the first one to admit it. I’ve earned it, though. I’m old enough now to appreciate how damned GOOD I look without any frat-boy overconfidence … and enjoy the glances of unbridled lust I get when I wear this stuff.
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