For those of a certain age fortunate enough to view the sweet romantic comedy Pretty Woman about a down-on-her-luck hooker with a heart of gold who finds love, which subsequently catapulted the then relatively unknown Julia Roberts into international fame, you'd certainly have recalled a particularly memorable scene where she's disdainfully denied service at an upscale atelier due to her tawdry skank-on-the-make attire. Understandably she finds herself quite distraught after receiving such pompous condescension from the snide saleswomen.
Unhappily the world is still an entirely visual place and almost everyone - yes, even you - judges relative strangers based on their appearance since let's face it, only a select gifted few can read spiritual chakras at first sight. In our dismally futile bid for a more egalitarian society, very few take to heart the old-time adage of putting their best foot forward and instead step out in their crappiest flip flops hoping to make a good first impression.
That doesn't work. Even Julia Roberts couldn't make it work. So dress to impress, people!
But I digress. Back to the snotty salespeople.
Though I've heard secondhand stories about the horrific experiences at some of these uppity boutiques, I've been blessed enough to have had only the nicest sales service at most. Undoubtedly if they'd been able to gauge their customers well enough, they would probably have known from a quick glance that I can be quite the malignant bitch if provoked - hence their apparent good behaviour. In fact, some of the salespeople are so uncommonly attentive that I find myself almost guilt-ridden for not recklessly splurging on their products.
But just when I am starting to think it's pure urban legend, it actually does happen and Diffident David of the tee-shirt, shorts and flip flops fame finds himself at the receiving end of just such bitchy snobbery.
David : I didn't buy anything.
Paul : Why not? The bags looked terrible like I said?
David : No, the salespeople looked down on us.
Paul : Oh dear, one of those snotty stores? Which one?
David : No, I forgot the name. They make leather bags.
Paul : Louis Vuitton? Prada?
David : No!
Paul : Goyard?
David : Think it was Crumpler?
Paul : Crumpler?! Now I'm judging.
David : The sales people?
Paul : No, I'm judging you.
Let's try our best to ignore the tragic fact that it happened at... of all places, a Crumpler store. Really. Looked down the nose by the salespeople at such a hipster utilitarian store?
Oh dear.
Ready to mollify my indignant friend, I said I was of course appalled at the terrible Turkish treatment he had received - and all too ready to enact a vicious Youtube meltdown at said store by toppling down all their sturdy, robust backpacks.
At the same time though, there's no denying this little gleeful voice inside that can't help but be wildly elated. Obviously I didn't need to search for more motivation to dress well. You really can't wear flip flops everywhere, people. Even the Crumpler store wouldn't serve you.
And that's saying something.
Unhappily the world is still an entirely visual place and almost everyone - yes, even you - judges relative strangers based on their appearance since let's face it, only a select gifted few can read spiritual chakras at first sight. In our dismally futile bid for a more egalitarian society, very few take to heart the old-time adage of putting their best foot forward and instead step out in their crappiest flip flops hoping to make a good first impression.
That doesn't work. Even Julia Roberts couldn't make it work. So dress to impress, people!
But I digress. Back to the snotty salespeople.
Though I've heard secondhand stories about the horrific experiences at some of these uppity boutiques, I've been blessed enough to have had only the nicest sales service at most. Undoubtedly if they'd been able to gauge their customers well enough, they would probably have known from a quick glance that I can be quite the malignant bitch if provoked - hence their apparent good behaviour. In fact, some of the salespeople are so uncommonly attentive that I find myself almost guilt-ridden for not recklessly splurging on their products.
But just when I am starting to think it's pure urban legend, it actually does happen and Diffident David of the tee-shirt, shorts and flip flops fame finds himself at the receiving end of just such bitchy snobbery.
David : I didn't buy anything.
Paul : Why not? The bags looked terrible like I said?
David : No, the salespeople looked down on us.
Paul : Oh dear, one of those snotty stores? Which one?
David : No, I forgot the name. They make leather bags.
Paul : Louis Vuitton? Prada?
David : No!
Paul : Goyard?
David : Think it was Crumpler?
Paul : Crumpler?! Now I'm judging.
David : The sales people?
Paul : No, I'm judging you.
Let's try our best to ignore the tragic fact that it happened at... of all places, a Crumpler store. Really. Looked down the nose by the salespeople at such a hipster utilitarian store?
Oh dear.
 |
| Surely the epitome of luxury and elegance! |
Ready to mollify my indignant friend, I said I was of course appalled at the terrible Turkish treatment he had received - and all too ready to enact a vicious Youtube meltdown at said store by toppling down all their sturdy, robust backpacks.
At the same time though, there's no denying this little gleeful voice inside that can't help but be wildly elated. Obviously I didn't need to search for more motivation to dress well. You really can't wear flip flops everywhere, people. Even the Crumpler store wouldn't serve you.
And that's saying something.
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