I Pray at Abercrombie

        I was recently walking through Columbus Circle, when I passed a group of men holding posters and demonstrating through a megaphone. Their aim, it seemed, was to make the passer-by aware of the blatant sin of our time, the sin of our country, and our ambivalence about the whole situation. They read from the Bible, interpreting passages and highlighting certain phrases that resonated with their arguments. Clearly, there was a rehearsed routine, as the group would collectively say “that’s right” when the lead speaker made an apparent point. One of these points went something like this: “Our country is surrounded with sin; World War III has already begun, and you don’t notice because you are out shopping!” As someone who works in retail, this last comment resonated with me; sometimes I do ignore the news and go about my day, leaning in to the privileges I have of living on the Upper West Side.
        We discussed briefly in our class the inherent link between capitalism and America, and how it potentially mars America’s “purity.” We discussed how capitalism purports the journey of the power-hungry money holders. Furthermore, capitalism lends itself to the creation of monopolies, of large businesses that eventually gain some sort of voting power. An active voice, then, is given only to those who can afford it. Man becomes man’s competition, instead of his supporter. In this post, I wanted to lift an example from our city that articulates this problem.
        It is America itself, however, that Jerry Falwell, in his book Listen, America! finds can possibly save the world from the destruction by the “force of evil.” We discussed how America, in light of other countries of the time, (ie the “evil” Soviet Union), was proven diverse and democratic. It “could be a site for change,” in the time of the second coming of Christ. America served as Falwell’s hope for the future.
       So, let’s take a temperature check on capitalism and the hope for America’s saving power today, especially in light of the Columbus Circle demonstrators. Today, I walked into the Abercrombie and Fitch clothing store on Fifth Avenue. I remembered there being a controversial statement made by the CEO of the company, and I wanted to see how the store decided to present itself today. When I arrived home, I researched one of CEO Mike Jefferies’ statements: "Candidly, we go after the cool kids. We go after the attractive all-American kid with a great attitude and a lot of friends. A lot of people don't belong [in our clothes], and they can't belong. Are we exclusionary? Absolutely. Those companies that are in trouble are trying to target everybody: young, old, fat, skinny. But then you become totally vanilla. You don't alienate anybody, but you don't excite anybody, either" (retailindustry.com, elitedaily.com).
        Exploring the store, I climbed up three flights of illuminated stairs. Along the walls, I noticed mural paintings of beautiful shirtless men performing different athletic exercises. This was unexpected, since I’m used to the company’s black and white portrait campaign (although not different in subject matter). Most striking was one painted body, performing pull ups, lifting his body with two ropes. The artist decided to capture the body in motion as his arms were just about reaching wingspan. No doubt, this resonates with the image of Christ on the cross. Looking up, I noticed scantily clad bodies were painted swimming on the ceiling. I immediately thought of Italian fresco paintings, specifically the murals covering the walls and ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. This store became a vision of a place of worship, invoking similar spaces that are renowned for their divine artistic genius. In these spaces, the artists’ masterpieces plus the sense of ritualistic religion that takes place in them combine to create a sacred atmosphere. Abercrombie and Fitch on Fifth Avenue is certainly emulating a holy space, and seems to be doing very well with membership... Were the demonstrators in Columbus Circle right? Are we worshiping man, the money he accrues, and the beautiful body? Is mainstream capitalism corrupting the goodness of America that Falwell found so hopeful? What do we choose to worship? Where do we place value? Can we foresee consequences?