Author: Gladys Angle
The current state of the U.S. economy has left many in financial paralysis. Most of us – particularly college students – don’t have wiggle room in our budgets for things like new clothes, shiny cars or $55 parking tickets from self-righteous “parking enforcement” officers who patrol streets waiting for someone to miss that inconspicuous “two-hour parking WITH A PERMIT” sign. Still, one occasionally wonders what it would be like to live as the glamorous, rehab-reformed, Coffee-Bean-drinking actors who grace the pages of US Weekly, pictured in photos captioned “shopping in L.A.” But where are they shopping? Certainly not in Eagle Rock. I decided to pay the $2.50/15 minute valet parking on Rodeo Dr. and explore what luxuries the overpaid and underworked indulge in when they go shopping.
I passed many stores that could’ve come straight out of “Pretty Woman,” complete with men in suits who stood at the entrance while five or six sales personnel milled about, waiting for customers. On the cobblestone streets, the demographic of (non-tourist) pedestrians was immediately noticeable: white, stick-thin or very buff, with an aloof disposition. Some brought their fun-size dogs and Bluetooth sets. I felt out of place in my plain attire, toting a notebook instead of a mini purse and Blackberry. I wondered why so many of them looked unhappy or annoyed. Being rich and successful must be hard.
Fire hydrants, spray painted silver, lined the sidewalks, which were dotted with countless fountains and potted plants. Patrons sitting at tables outside 208 Rodeo, a French restaurant, eyed everyone casually. If I were hungry, I could have stopped there and ordered a $15 salad. Or, if I were in the mood for sushi, I could have wandered over to Urasawa and gotten gold-flaked sashimi for $350.
But of course, Rodeo Drive is known for its shopping more than its food. I stopped at Barney’s New York to examine the wares and found an assortment of wildly overpriced clothes. At the top of the staircase leading to the women’s department stood an impressive display of agile mannequins posed with vacuums, nuclear housewife-style.
Browsing through the racks of clothes organized by designer, I found ordinary items with extraordinary prices. A flannel shirt by Boy. By Band of Outsiders cost $315, and Hysterics skinny jeans were marked at $595. The Stella McCartney rack had a pair of black dress pants for $835, and a gray and white cardigan for $965. A cute slinky black Versace dress would’ve left me $1,895 short, and chunky heels by Lanvin would be another $1,155.
Seeing as I didn’t have the $5,760 to pay for all of that, I ventured to Loehmanns and Target to seek out affordable alternatives. I happened across a very similar Dollhouse flannel shirt for $19.99, and Planet Gold skinny jeans for $12.98. I found black dress pants by Chelsea and Theodore for $29.99, and a gray and white cardigan for $49.00 if I’d opted for Anna Sui at Target. That slinky black dress would’ve only been $24.99, made by Soprano, and matching heels by Mossimo were $29.99. Altogether, I’d pay $166.94 for the same clothes I could get on Rodeo for thousands more.
What it comes down to is having the means to maintain an overtly material lifestyle. If the glamorous life is really worth shoes that cost more than three months’ worth of paychecks from your campus jobs, then by all means, give Rodeo Drive a shot. But in all practicality, you’ll find the same items for much cheaper at local retailers. What’s puzzling is why paying thousands of dollars on shoes elevates one’s value as an individual.
The media consistently glorifies the privileged (see “The Hills,” “Gossip Girl,” “90210,” “Keeping up with the Kardashians,” etc.), presenting consumers with the idea that designer clothes equal higher social status. Are we so entrenched with the notion of glamour that we will spend $1,895 for a dress that we could easily get for $25? With 13 million people reading US Weekly, according to its former editor Janice Min, America is clearly fascinated by the rich and famous. Whether or not one conforms to the ideals of that population is up to the individual. So, my fellow students, what’ll it be: Barney’s or Target?
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