Hollister Clothing Company: Supplier of fashionable goods at a reasonable price, or evil empire bent on taking over the world using cult tactics?

Do you belong? I wish I did, but I don't yet. Maybe if I just spend $300 more dollars on Hollister clothing, I can belong to Club Cali, the official club of elite Hollister shoppers. I'm not from California, I don't have shaggy blond hair, I don't have some necklace with a little trinket at the end that symbolizes something spiritual, and I don't surf, but I think they'd let me in anyway.  They're Hollister. They're cool about stuff like that.

Hollister's ad campaign, titled "Do You Belong?", marks just one aspect of cult-like methods used to attract shoppers into their lair. The store at Rosedale stands out because unlike other stores, this one is designed at keeping people inside. There is only one small entrance, and one you cross that threshold, you are overwhelmed by loud music, dim lighting, and a strong scent. If I wanted to hear the new Jack Johnson CD blaring at 18,000 decibels, I'd go to a fricken' Jack Johnson concert. Once in the store, you are faced with two options:

1) Resist the tide of Hollister and race through the winding store, finally spotting the dim light in the distance that must be the entrance.

2) Submit to the endless call of turquoise clothes and loud music. Look at yourself in a dim mirror and convince that this new skirt, not a diet, will make you look thinner. Admire all of the attractive employees sashaying around the store with an air of confidence that only a Hollister employee can pull off. Run through the store, pulling clothes off the shelves while thrusting a credit card at the cash register, screaming, "I WANT TO BELONG, I WANT TO BELONG!!!!"

I don't know about you, but the second option sounds pretty good to me. After all, the world needs more leg warmers!

Besides the leg warmers, there are other areas I would like to discuss, namely the novelty tees. The novelty tees at Hollister are a touchy subject for me. I refuse to wear a t-shirt that says, "tickle my funny bone" or, "who let the cocks out?". Why? First of all, who the hell wears these shirts? Secondly, I would never have the confidence to wear a shirt like that. Maybe they could print me a special shirt, reading, "I don't have the confidence to wear a humorous yet inappropriate novelty t-shirt". That would be more suitable for me. Shit, I forgot. They only print you special t-shirts if you're part of Club Cali.

For girls, it's not as big of a deal. I understand that if you went shopping at Herbergers, you would probably end up looking like my aunt or something. For guys, it's different. I hate to say that I automatically lose some respect for any guy who's decked out in Hollister gear. But even for some guys, Hollister clothing is forgivable. Some guys just go out and buy whatever looks alright or whatever their mom picks up for them, without giving the situation a second thought. What I have no mercy for is the guys who actually go shopping for clothes, looking for what's trendy or what makes them look really good. I can't see why a guy would pay $28 for a cheap, pink shirt that says "Hollister" across the front. They might as well have the phrase, "I'm a big fag that just paid about $20 more than I needed to for a flamboyant pink t-shirt" pasted across their chest, because that's all I'm seeing.

So if I'm so anti-Hollister, what do I wear? Well, right now I have on a Pink Floyd t-shirt that is already too small for me. No, I don't think I'm cool or unique because I like Pink Floyd. In fact, if I saw somebody wearing the same shirt I'm wearing, I would probably jump to the conclusion that they are trying too hard to be anti-regular clothing, advertising their taste in music in an attempt to come off as different or apart from the crowd. I bought this shirt at JC Penny's and about 1,000 other people probably got the same t-shirt in the last week. My shirt says "1973 Tour" on the front, and I wasn't on the 1973 tour nor did I see the 1973 tour. I probably purchased the shirt from some rich guy who bought the rights to Pink Floyd after they broke up. So am I any better than Hollister shoppers? Not really. But at least my shopping experience was in a roomy department store that didn't have trendy music blaring in my ears or terrible lighting convincing me that I'm not as ugly as I thought. JC Penny didn't ask me If I Belonged. There were no attractive employees working the cash register, intimidating me every step of the wall. There was only me, my t-shirt, and a 40+ year-old lady asking me if I wanted my receipt with me or in the bag.  Maybe I'll start Club JC Penny...

Yours Truly,

LEC EMPIRE