Welcome to Hollister, NYC. The muscly man pictured here is one of two models hired to stand outside the opening that wafts regular clouds of stinky perfume into the street. I've tripped over their flip flops as I dodge European-tourist-oglers to reach the door to my building (which is right next door.) On sunny days they apply zinc to their noses. On colder days, they wear hoodies. On mild days, the hoodies go unzipped.
It feels absolutely absurd to me that they help bring traffic to the store, but they must. They're there, all day, everyday, unless it's stormy.
It feels like advertising stripped down to a banal level; like you're actually watching the ground beef being extruded and shrink wrapped and you eat the burger anyway.
Sometimes I feel bad for them; like if their modeling careers were really taking off they wouldn't have to stand in the sun all day and posing with old ladies having pictures taken in their arms. I try to hide it now when my laughter erupts.
5 comments:
i bet they suffer from chronic acne on their nosessss. poor chaps
That is too funny. Poor guy.
He's pretty hot! I don't know about getting a picture taken in his arms, but I wouldn't mind walking past him every day. At least in theory.
i used to go to a yoga studio in soho and would often pass the hollister. i feel bad for these guys, although i shouldnt as theyre probably getting paid very well.
check this out if you think your one shirtless guy is lame http://improveverywhere.com/2007/10/17/no-shirts/
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