Its appeal during the boom was being expensive and unavailable, but will teen brand Abercrombie Fitch lose its cachet now that it’s decided to come to us?
IT’S ALL IN the timing. If, four years ago, news had filtered out, as it did this week, that American teen brand Abercrombie Fitch was finally coming to Dublin the stampede of Ugg boots heading towards Dame Street would have been deafening.
The preppy brand, with its unmistakable moose logo, was an essential part of every Celtic cub’s uniform, as indispensable as a pair of Juicy Couture velour trackie bottoms and a GHD hair straightener. As a must-have brand it had two major factors going for it: it was expensive, up there with Tommy Hilfiger and Ralph Lauren, and, much, much more crucially, you couldn’t buy it here.
Its rise coincided with the very boomish phenomenon of weekend shopping trips to New York.
It sounds so unbelievable that it’s like recounting a folk tale from the mists of time, but, for a couple of years in the thick of it, a trip across the Atlantic to snap up cut-price designer labels was as commonplace as nipping across the Border for cheap nappies is now. For mothers of teenagers, particularly southside Dublin teens, Abercrombie Fitch hoodies and T-shirts were on the top of the shopping list.
In mid-2007, having announced that I would be in New York for few days, two such lists were pressed into my hand by friends with teenagers, which explains how I ended up in the brand’s flagship store on Fifth Avenue, rummaging in the Stygian gloom among stacks of neatly folded cotton T-shirts which all looked pretty much identical.
The shop is fitted out with wood panelling and large leather sofas, like a Victorian gentleman’s club, except there’s a gyrating topless male greeter at the front door and music so loud you can feel it vibrating in your chest as soon as you cross the threshold.
As my first thought passing the buff young doorman wasn’t “mmm, look at that six-pack” but, instead, “that young man will get a cold if he doesn’t put a top on”, I should have taken it as a sign that maybe this shopping experience wasn’t designed for a woman of my vintage – the AF market is, after all, 18- to 22-year-olds.
The marketing is so cleverly targeted that AF has spawned two other brands, Abercrombie, for seven- to 18-year-olds, and Hollister, a cooler, more laid-back, surf-influenced label.
Inside the AF store any attempt to catch the attention of the stunning-looking assistant in the teeny skirt and vest top was greeted with a sort of bemused stare. Everybody in the AF world is beautiful, starting with the sexy ads in cool greyscale created for the brand by uber-fashion photographer Bruce Weber.
Indeed AF has garnered less than favourable press in the past for its “look policy”, whereby only good-looking, preppy-type models were hired as shop assistants. The company has since adopted a more open and ethnically diverse approach to recruitment.
At the till in New York the woman in front of me was Irish, as were the two behind – an odd experience in a Fifth Avenue store, especially as the husband of one of them was slumped on the clubby leather sofa, his legs obscured by a sea of shopping bags.
The shopper in front counted out the T-shirts piled in front of her (at $30 a pop) and was having second thoughts about one of the hoodies (around $70) but thought she’d buy it anyway “just in case”.
When Abercrombie Fitch does open in Dublin’s old Habitat building, a former bank, later this year, the prices are likely to be much higher than those in the US stores. The brand has responded to the recession not by cutting prices but by toughing it out, keeping the high-end image and expanding outside the US. The opening in Dublin is part of a European expansion that will see new shops in Paris, Brussels, Madrid and Dusseldorf.
A Hollister shop will also open in the Dundrum Town Centre later this year, a further sign that AF considers the retail environment here favourable.
Whether the brand’s marketing machine can entice the younger siblings of pampered Tiger cubs through the door or whether they’ve become too loyal to new cult brand Superdry at one end, or cheap-as-chips Penneys at the other, will be something to watch.
