UPDATE: As one commenter noted, and as I had figured, eBay is now teeming with Missoni for Target items (over 2,000 listed items in the Women’s Clothing section!), marked up 3-5x the original price. I would like to say I think this is generally a shitty practice, though luckily the consumers are speaking because almost all of the absurd markups have no bids. Karma is a ….
I am pretty embarrassed to admit that when I woke up this morning, I decided to check out the new diffusion line for Target. I had seen the line in countless magazines and had been eying a cute little sweater jacket for the fall, however I have been disappointed by these lines before so I prefer to see the items in person.
I pass by a Target on my way to work so at the last minute this morning, I veered into the Columbia Heights store. Honestly, I kept thinking “This is kind of crazy, just go after work!” but I assumed post-work crowds would mob the place (for Missoni and other things) so I thought a quick sneak in-sneak out would be in my future. I thought wrong.
I wasn’t even sure if this Target would carry the line. Columbia Heights isn’t McClean and I wasn’t sure if the line would even appeal to the young hipster urbanites and working class families that line the streets of this eclectic neighborhood.
As I was walking towards Target, I saw a girl about my age, holding some Missoni for Target desk items. How cute!, I thought. This young girl was able to quickly pick up some desk items without being nearly murdered for a slice of colorful zigzag knitwear.
For the second time already today, (note: 8:30 AM…bound to be a bad day) I thought wrong.
When I walked in, I didn’t immediately see anything so I initially thought my assumption was right, and this Target was not carrying the line. However, upon further examination I noticed there had been a display of women’s clothes, but it had been wiped clean. I was somewhat astonished (perhaps naively so), but decided to head upstairs to see if they had any baby clothes, as I thought my niece may look ravishing in a little fuschia knit onesie.
When I began to peruse the scene, my blood pressure began to rise. There was a girl sitting by the shoes with her iPad, frantically trying to get on Target’s now-crashed website.
“She’s coming out with more shoes!” she said, referring to a saleswoman who would soon arrive with a shipment of the Missoni line shoes. I examined one pair of shoes that were sitting on the counter, waiting to be snatched up. The design was cute but the “wooden” block heel made of plastic and faux woodgrain definitely belied the fact that this was no Missoni heel. I politely thanked this shopper and moved on, though she would prove to be among the least rabid of the shoppers, iPad shopping while in store notwithstanding.
As I continued towards the baby clothes, I noticed women trying on the little girls’ dresses to wear as shirts. “Don’t mind the fact that this shirt doesn’t fit, flatter me or look good in any way, shape, or form – it’s Missoni! Well, Missoni for Target. Are you fooled?” Others were grabbing XL cardigans, which again, I cannot imagine fit well on the shape of an adult woman. Others were simply grabbing whatever they could see and throwing it into their carts (presumably for eBay selling or just general label hoarding).
A woman comes out of the stockroom with a few boxes of home items and people became frantic. “IS THAT THE ENTIRE BEDROOM SET?” “WHAT ABOUT A DUVET COVER?” The poor, bewildered Target employee, likely fearful of losing an eye, wheeled the cart back into the stockroom to examine it’s contents without the hot breath of the wolfpack on her neck.
I glanced at a woman’s cart to see what items HAD been in stock and she snarled at me, “THOSE ARE MINE! I am buying them for ME!” as if I had assumed she was throwing a Missoni party and treating everyone to some of this diffusion knitwear.
Most of the women were definitely not Columbia Heights residents and looked like they definitely drove their Mercedes SUV’s into the city (ick!) to shop for this line, post yoga and skim lattes at Tynan. People were shoving their feet into children’s rain boots (ridiculous because, even if your feet fit, the boots are, again, made for a child and reach only a few inches up the calf).
It appeared as though Target was continuing to bring out more items, but I decided I was at risk for losing at least one of my limbs and I better hightail it out of there, as well as the fact that I had an early meeting.
Just as I was walking out, a mid-twenties girl approached me (she lacked the requisite Missoni-stuffed cart that those who arrived at 8AM were wheeling around). “I was going to put this back but I don’t want to get mobbed,” she said, gesturing towards the circle that had formed around the empty display, where people were waiting like vultures for someone to set down an unwanted item. “Do you want this by any chance?”, she asked, right before she handed me the exact coat in the exact size I had been looking for. I was likely cross eyed and drooling at this point as the shock of this experience set in to my system, but I attempted to thank her and bolt to the checkout. Was she a savior, sent by the Missoni diffusion line gods? Probably not, but she definitely saved me from something.