Just when I thought I had escaped the bane of all evil that is Abercrombie & Fitch in the States, I smelled a familiar whiff of strong cologne while walking down Regent Street earlier. 'The man in front of me must have spritzed one too many times this morning', I thought. But as he crossed the street, the stench only got stronger. So I did one of those slow turn-in-place things you see in movies and realized that the cologne was emanating from none other than the dark, music-thumping retail hell of
Hollister ACROSS THE STREET. Yes, ladies and gentlemen - you
know how wide Regent Street is. The trail of I'm-a-MANLY-man-smell slithered across two lanes of traffic AND a divider to strike my delicate nose. And to top it off, a quick Google images search brought me to the gag-inducing scenes of the store opening above (along with Gilly Hicks, its equally obnoxious sister company). Please. Put the washboard stomachs and pecs away and keep this shiz to yourself, USA. Just let Britain do its own preppy thang (ahem,
Jack Wills).
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