... Others were not so lucky
The initial announcement for the Jason Wu for Target line showcased simply adorable, gamine, and precious clothes. Sweet, really. Parisian chic. Civilized.
The roll-up gates raised at Target at 8:00 a.m. on a Sunday, and the stampede began. I crossed the threshold at 8:02 a.m., and found bare racks (save for the XL sizes), wild-eyed and crazed (primarily) female shoppers, the lucky few grasping a mound of clothes and sprinting for the dressing rooms. The Target employees gathered around, trying to soothe nerves and keep the peace. One ran to sporting goods to outfit himself with a taser (unfortunately, the line of designer tasers that launched the week before had resulted in a pared down stock there as well).
A three-item limit was imposed on those attempting to use the dressing room, so others just dropped trou in the clothing section and even in the aisles of housewares, using the rugs and throw pillows to shield themselves from the eyes of curious Sunday-morning shoppers.
After the initial wave, a few rejected items replenished the racks. The gathered crowd sprang in for the deposited skirts and dresses. In one such case, two ladies grabbed hold of the same item, and fought. One shrieked the explanation that she deserved it because "I got here BEFORE eight!" Well, well, well. I wouldn't argue with the other woman, who was built like a linebacker, and could certainly level you to the floor. The shrieker, eventually, gave up.
Then the barter system reigned. Girls who had just grasped items willy-nilly were now left holding precious cargo that didn't escape the others' eyes. So they began offering their own misguided pickups in a trade for the other offcasts, before the clothing could be put back into the open market. Shirts changed hands for skirts; a flouncy dress traded for an 8 ball of cocaine. One woman, who was pushing a stroller with twins, decided she could spare one of her babies, and swapped for the trench coat. I'm sure her husband will understand.
Only three major casualties were observed: One woman tried to stand her ground, holding a couple of dresses for a friend, waving back the hoard with a tiki torch from the outdoor section. The crowd pushed forward, undeterred, and bludgeoned the girl with a Michael Graves toaster. The second girl was strangled by the very object of her desire, a Jason Wu scarf with a sweet little kitty on it. Third, yet another girl was smothered by a Tickle-Me-Elmo, a former exclusive item that caused a Target frenzy. Elmo cackled maniacally throughout the proceeding.
On this Superbowl Sunday, the true battle was not between the Giants and Patriots. It was between the XLs and the Wu loyalists.
After the initial wave, a few rejected items replenished the racks. The gathered crowd sprang in for the deposited skirts and dresses. In one such case, two ladies grabbed hold of the same item, and fought. One shrieked the explanation that she deserved it because "I got here BEFORE eight!" Well, well, well. I wouldn't argue with the other woman, who was built like a linebacker, and could certainly level you to the floor. The shrieker, eventually, gave up.
Then the barter system reigned. Girls who had just grasped items willy-nilly were now left holding precious cargo that didn't escape the others' eyes. So they began offering their own misguided pickups in a trade for the other offcasts, before the clothing could be put back into the open market. Shirts changed hands for skirts; a flouncy dress traded for an 8 ball of cocaine. One woman, who was pushing a stroller with twins, decided she could spare one of her babies, and swapped for the trench coat. I'm sure her husband will understand.
Only three major casualties were observed: One woman tried to stand her ground, holding a couple of dresses for a friend, waving back the hoard with a tiki torch from the outdoor section. The crowd pushed forward, undeterred, and bludgeoned the girl with a Michael Graves toaster. The second girl was strangled by the very object of her desire, a Jason Wu scarf with a sweet little kitty on it. Third, yet another girl was smothered by a Tickle-Me-Elmo, a former exclusive item that caused a Target frenzy. Elmo cackled maniacally throughout the proceeding.
On this Superbowl Sunday, the true battle was not between the Giants and Patriots. It was between the XLs and the Wu loyalists.
Btw, I came away from the store with three pieces, two of which I may be putting up for sale later. I'll take a large suitcase full of money for the black lampshade skirt and a unicorn for the red striped dress (shown above).
