Tales from Hollister

Foreigners are Bad at Shopping

Two things before I start this post:

1) I'm not racist or prejudiced in any way, I swear.


2) So I'm a little afraid that this blog is getting too Hollister....ey. This is because as of right now my life consists of two things, work and television. There isn't too much going on in my life right now and won't be until school starts again. Also I've been writing primarily about Hollister because this is where most of the blogworthy things I witness happen. There really isn't much else for me to write about right now. So for anyone new to this site (doubtful) let me just say that yes I do work at Hollister, yes I know the job is gay, if at any time I claim I'm cool for working there I am being sarcastic.

That said.............

Working in the fashion industry is hard for so many reasons. The superficial relationships, the constant focus on looks, finding good cocaine, my ongoing struggle with eating disorders. But perhaps the hardest thing of all about working in the fashion industry, at least in my humble corner of the biz, is Asian people (**NOTE** These are the fresh of the boat or FOB Asian people who are in Columbia no doubt to learn or teach Statistics).

Asians are the bane of my existence at Hollister. Whatever the reason is these people do not fit in at American stores. From the second they enter the door things go bad. As soon as they walk in, just as with any other customer, the hard working Hollister models regurgitate the tag line at them. It goes something like this.

Hot Model: What's up? Can I help you find anything?
Group of 5 Asians: ....................................Eh...no.

They stand there, literally for at least 30 seconds, and stare. They speak no English. None. Zip. Zero. Anyone who has ever taken a Stat class at Mizzou (hell probably any major university) knows this. They don't know what you just said. For all they know you could be asking them to save your life. Here's the full play by play of what happens when the group of Asians walk in.

The group walks in looking at the ground and giggling. Hollister model says tagline. Asian at the front of the group looks up, face turns from laughter to confusion and stops dead in his/her tracks. As if the entire action is animated the rest of the Asian group slams into the lead Asian causing a pile up. They look around confused and scared. Their eyes collectively gather upon the model who spoke the tagline. Model stands silently awaiting response. Group keeps still like deer in headlights unsure of what their next move should be. Model stands silently awaiting response. Group silently decides that the leader should respond, for that is the responsibility accepted when one walks at the front of an Asian group. Model considers just walking away, but instead stands silently awaiting response. Leader responds with a slight smile and speaks in broken English. Group walks away giggling. Model thanks God that is all the interaction he will have with the Asian group.

That is just the beginning. What happens next is shopping mayhem. These Asian groups have a nickname amongst the retail workers of the Columbia Mall. They are called Asian Tornadoes. This is because other than an actual wind tornado there is nothing on the planet Earth that can do damage to a clothing store like an Asian Tornado (to clarify a Trelblation Class 4 battle cruiser could easily match the damage of an Asian Tornado but obviously those come from the planet Trelblat X).

These Asian Tornadoes cruise into Hollister ready to shop, except they don't really shop because that word implies a purchase is made. These Asian Tornadoes rarely make actual purchases. No they're just looking. And even though they don't usually intend to buy anything, they still head straight for the clearance section of the store. Live large Asians! You live in a country now where any person is free to look at but not buy anything! Take a look at those full price tank tops! But no, only clearance for them, it takes time to adjust to a new country.

You may be thinking "Hey, these Asian people sound just like teenage girls! Non-Asian teenage girls do this all the time!" Well yes, technically this is true. However comparing what they do only takes you so far, the scope of what these two different groups of annoying shoppers do tells the whole story. Teenage girls vs. Asian Tornadoes is like comparing Jack Burdock of the 1884 Boston Beaneaters to Babe Ruth, if Babe Ruth took steroids and was also Superman.

The tornado hits the clearance racks hard. All of their hands flying through clothes so fast it seems like every finger is a bullet train. It's like they don't even look at the clothes, they just throw them to the ground some how already knowing they wouldn't want it if they intended to buy something. This is where the tornadoes distance themselves from the teenagers. Hollister's policy for combating messy customers is by using customer service.

EXAMPLE
[Customer rifles through stack of clothes]
Hot Model: Can I help you find anything?
Customer: Um..I guess..I'm looking for a medium.
Hot Model: Better make that a large.

Here is how the Model-Tornado exchange goes.

[A four foot tall yellow cyclone whirls through stacks of clothes blanketing the floor with clearance items]
Hot Model: Can I help you find anything?
[Cyclone slowly comes to a halt, and lines up the individual Asians, who all blankly stare at the model, now knowing that the best way to deal with the situation is to respond just as they did before]
Asian: ..............................................eh.....no.
[Cyclone again forms, picks up speed, tosses clothes, and a child, around the store]

It's never a pretty sight. And it lasts a while...a long while. Also there isn't really a point to trying to fold the clothes they have already made a mess of, as tornadoes routinely double back. There is nothing you can do about them. Just like real tornadoes you just have to find a secure location and hope it passes quickly.

Perhaps the most awkward encounter I personally have ever had with an Asian tornado was when they actually asked me a question. That was weird. The conversation was as follows:

Asian: Can you help us?
Me [bewildered]: Uh...yeah.
Asian: How many kilograms do you weigh?
Me: I have no idea.
Asian: ......Kilograms.
Me: No I know what you said. I know what kilogram is. I just have absolutely no idea.
Asian: ..........How many?
Me: No, I told you....I weight 170.
Asian [laughing]: You are not fat.
Me: 170 pounds.
Asian [stares blankly]
Me: I have no idea how many kilograms I weigh. I don't know how to convert it.
Asian [magically knows what convert means]: Use my phone to tell.
Me: Okay...
[Asian hands me her phone]
Me: Everything on this phone is in Chinese.
Asian: No, Korean.
Me: Okay well I don't speak that language either.
Asian: .......How many kilograms?
Me: Why do you need to know how much I weigh?
Asian: My friend is your size, we are buying his shirt.
Me: I wear a large. My shirt size is a large. My pants size is 32/32.
[Asian stares blankly]
Me: Let me call a manager.

I swear I'm not racist.