M B.
Yelp
Came here many months back but it was pretty memorable. I was curious how this place does on Yelp. Let me try and wrap my mind around/expand upon why some other Yelpers may describe the vibe as "rude"...
Five people were working--a female behind the counter and then four guys, of the garage rock persuasion. Disinterested in the clothing, I sat down on what little space I could find whilst my partner looked at the clothes (again, some of which were interesting.) I reach for the closest reading material--an early 80s Artforum, of which there were about 20. Instantly, one of the men "installing" zoomed up, first inquiring if I was ok, then proceeding to ask who was the critic of that issue: Michel Foucault or Sylvere Lotringer? He then asked, maintaining the rapid fire, if I was "an artist, a critic, or a just a generally cultured person?" I guess my grey sweater and oxford shirt rendered me guilty as charged. I, however, responded none of the above, desperate to avoid further conversation, though laughing my ass off in my head that people still use post-structuralism as a coolness barometer. Could this artifact of lo-fi's linguistic turn really be mugging me in his own store?
The conversation picked up in fiery pace: soon, he was questioning me on contemporary novelists that everyone who can read knows about. I continued to play dumb, inquiring which Sebald to start with; then, he moved to ask about my schooling, my familiarity with his sense of holy writ garnering not an "I wonder if we grew up near each other" but a staunch statement of pride for his alma mater. At this point, my partner began to speak for me, as I couldn't--amazed that somehow I knew this would happen, it was too perfect. This was it, the cartoon of chillwave congealing into living, breathing form, the bourgeois apathy of post-structuralism's nightmares, now clad in cali-sun faded denim, having built itself a sandcastle.
My terse responses somehow didn't get me out of the hot-seat. The feeling was not necessarily a good one: like being tickled, it was confusing, vaguely violent, uncomfortable, though done with friendly intentions? Maybe even enjoyable? I don't want to rag on this place too hard, because deep down, I found the interaction really pitiable and hilarious. Now, if I weren't strapped with heavy names to drop, to counter the barrage, I may indeed have felt a bit, erm, put off...
The truth is, the place is great if you want to find thrifted pieces turned over at price because you didn't do the work. They have some genuinely cool stuff here. Especially what I like is the relative disposability of the clothes--nothing is too precious but each piece was unique and valuable. And, its fairly priced.
