The Inanity of the Barney’s Warehouse Sale

Oh man, life in New York City never fails to entertain. Today was one of those days when the city showed just how superficial she is; how she has too much money and too much time.

My office is located adjacent to the Barney’s Co-Op in Chelsea. It’s like the “discount” version of the uber-expensive Barney’s Department Store. On most days of the year, the Co-Op is a quiet, overpriced store, frequented by the sort of people who have no idea what it means to be on a budget. Curious, I went in once and hissed audibly when I picked up a sweater with a price tag close to my monthly rent. Then I rolled my eyes — oh, it’s one of those places — and left.

Twice a year or so, they also hold a monstrous, well publicized “Warehouse Sale,” where people wait in line outside (making my morning commute so fun) to go in and buy crap like this.

After the first few days, the crowds thin, so today my boss and I went there, and I was horrified: Because there are no fitting rooms, women change in front of everyone. Everyone. I saw one girl, bent over, tugging up a skirt in her beige boy short underwear. I saw another woman rip off her shirt, wearing her bra (thank god). As the Village Voice puts it, “you can see a lot of skinny bitches looking stressed out in their undies.”

I really couldn’t say it any better; that’s what it was. And I’m sure there are a lot of men who happen to “stop by” and “look at suits” and aren’t at all using that camera phone function while they pretend to talk on the phone.

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