Lately, I’ve been a hoodie-and-leggings person. Partly because I have so much on my mind that I don’t have the energy to think about outfit choices. That’s what I came to my friend with yesterday, and in that moment, I realized I missed the chapter of my life I previously had — my “dressy high-heels era.” I think I’m ready for it to come back.
My love for fashion was sealed as a fact when my mom bought me my first fashion magazine. That was more than 20 years ago. Since then, I’ve gone through different cycles in this relationship, but I’ve always understood that it would evolve, change — but never end.
I was blown away by Maison Alaïa newest flagship store in Paris — unexpectedly pink, with bold, heavy design elements — strong yet feminine, mature rather than girly.
As much as I like it, I find myself questioning the entire concept.
Entertainment features, including cafes — and in Alaïa’s case, even a reading area — are increasingly integrated into retail spaces.
“Customers want more; fashion is no longer enough,” note the creators of these concepts, along with brand leadership and fashion journalists. “To sell, you need to evoke an emotion,” and that is exactly what these practices are aimed at.
The questions I find myself asking are: Isn’t this approach overwhelming? What happens when a customer walks in for coffee and cheesecake and ends up accidentally buying a jacket? They didn’t come for the jacket; they didn’t come for fashion — they came for coffee, and only then did they happen to leave with a jacket.
Aren’t brands trapping themselves when they try to attract attention through every means imaginable, but not through fashion itself? What will happen when customers get tired of the cheesecake? What new experience will need to be invented next?
I’ve written about this before in drier, data-heavy texts, but I increasingly see the need for structural, fundamental changes — starting with addressing the RTW category (including rethinking pricing strategies). RTW is often overlooked due to their lower profitability compared to, say, handbags. Still, the runway is not made by bags.
Luring customers with the smell of pastries and experiences that shift from secondary to primary — just so they buy a jacket — instead of fostering relationships directly with fashion products seems tricky. Whether that relationship is one of love, mutual benefit (where people build impressions partly through their outfits), or any other format, how sustainable and loyal are the relationships with fashion built on experiences?