redteam
Anthropologie Garden - IT'S A TRAP!!
This is the pretty little succulent garden outside of the Anthropologie store in Berkeley - the most effective woman trap ever devised. The designers of that store clearly have graduate degrees in psychology from some kind of sinister and immoral university. It is designed and arranged in such a way so that women get drawn in but never manage to leave - in the same way that degenerate gamblers get trapped by casinos.
First, you have a really pretty store near the 4th Street shopping area. Lots of fancy boutique stores selling clothes and ethnic hand made ice creams and whatever. The Anthropologie standalone building is rather modern and good looking. Nice colors. Outside is this beautiful ornamental garden that has some kind of a xeriscape vibe. The key is that it has unusual plants that you wouldn't expect to find in many gardens and certainly not in front of a clothing store. It's already too late, the event horizon is at the point when you can merely see the store.
Once inside, you notice the hip and inoffensive music. Not exactly downtempo, but not fast either. Not trippy, but not boring. Much less intense than Groove Armada, but less stoned than Thievery Corporation's "Mirror Conspiracy". The sound isn't exotic enough to be intimidating - it's almost familiar, just not too familiar. I'm sure they get a lot of people asking what's playing - if they can tear themselves away from the clothes.
As soon as you begin to approach the clothing, you are lost. Yes, even men are somewhat susceptible. You lose all sense of direction and begin wandering around looking at all of the interesting clothing. Of course, there are no clocks. There are convenient seating areas for guys complete with architectural and design related coffee table books. No magazines - women don't want to see men reading that.
Anthropologie has a huge variety of women's clothing, underwears, accessories, jewelry, even furniture and home stuff. Everything is arranged in a way that no woman would be able to resist. Yes, I mean no woman. Even if a feral Amazonian warrior had just escaped from a research facility, left a dozen dismembered bodies in her wake, and found her way into the store, she would probably start browsing, taking stuff off the rack, and putting it over herself in front of a mirror to see how it might look.
Many books on revolutionary feminist theory would vaporize if brought into the store.
The designer masterminds at Anthropologie found some kind of universal control point of womanhood and have ruthlessly manipulated it to further their diabolical ambitions of women's retail dominance.
Every day, the poor women milling about inside discover all too late that they have spent seven hours browsing and trying things on. Sometimes their men manage to escape to the nearby East Bay Vivarium but after several hours they abandon their mates altogether. At closing time, the women are ejected from the store with bags filled with clothing and empty bank accounts. They find their ways to their broken homes and spend the next several years trying to make sense out of what happened that day they visited Anthropologie.
Anthropologie Garden - IT'S A TRAP!!
This is the pretty little succulent garden outside of the Anthropologie store in Berkeley - the most effective woman trap ever devised. The designers of that store clearly have graduate degrees in psychology from some kind of sinister and immoral university. It is designed and arranged in such a way so that women get drawn in but never manage to leave - in the same way that degenerate gamblers get trapped by casinos.
First, you have a really pretty store near the 4th Street shopping area. Lots of fancy boutique stores selling clothes and ethnic hand made ice creams and whatever. The Anthropologie standalone building is rather modern and good looking. Nice colors. Outside is this beautiful ornamental garden that has some kind of a xeriscape vibe. The key is that it has unusual plants that you wouldn't expect to find in many gardens and certainly not in front of a clothing store. It's already too late, the event horizon is at the point when you can merely see the store.
Once inside, you notice the hip and inoffensive music. Not exactly downtempo, but not fast either. Not trippy, but not boring. Much less intense than Groove Armada, but less stoned than Thievery Corporation's "Mirror Conspiracy". The sound isn't exotic enough to be intimidating - it's almost familiar, just not too familiar. I'm sure they get a lot of people asking what's playing - if they can tear themselves away from the clothes.
As soon as you begin to approach the clothing, you are lost. Yes, even men are somewhat susceptible. You lose all sense of direction and begin wandering around looking at all of the interesting clothing. Of course, there are no clocks. There are convenient seating areas for guys complete with architectural and design related coffee table books. No magazines - women don't want to see men reading that.
Anthropologie has a huge variety of women's clothing, underwears, accessories, jewelry, even furniture and home stuff. Everything is arranged in a way that no woman would be able to resist. Yes, I mean no woman. Even if a feral Amazonian warrior had just escaped from a research facility, left a dozen dismembered bodies in her wake, and found her way into the store, she would probably start browsing, taking stuff off the rack, and putting it over herself in front of a mirror to see how it might look.
Many books on revolutionary feminist theory would vaporize if brought into the store.
The designer masterminds at Anthropologie found some kind of universal control point of womanhood and have ruthlessly manipulated it to further their diabolical ambitions of women's retail dominance.
Every day, the poor women milling about inside discover all too late that they have spent seven hours browsing and trying things on. Sometimes their men manage to escape to the nearby East Bay Vivarium but after several hours they abandon their mates altogether. At closing time, the women are ejected from the store with bags filled with clothing and empty bank accounts. They find their ways to their broken homes and spend the next several years trying to make sense out of what happened that day they visited Anthropologie.