In the pre-opening press for his new shop, Tom Ford was in. sufferable. But it was all worth it, if only as a set up for Horacio Silva’s shopping review in the NYT:
“Sir, this area is for appointments only,” said the security guard at the base of the stairs. I told him that I wanted to arrange a time for a fitting; he told me he did not know to whom to direct me. When I suggested he try the store manager, he replied, “Let me see if he has the time for you.”
You have to laugh. An unintentionally hilarious parody of a pretentious Madison Avenue boutique, the store reeks of arriviste Anglophilic posturing dressed up as aristocratic gentlemanly refinement. For all the preopening ballyhoo about the it’s-all-about-you customization and details like buttons on trouser cuffs so that your butler can brush away the remains of the day — at last! — the reality is more akin to a luxury store in a second-tier market during the mid-’90s.
Silva gets better treatment after making an appointment–under his own byline. Remarkably, service improves. The takeaway: if you have the means to buy Ford’s new products, defintely call ahead. That’ll give Ford’s staff time to look you up and see how rich you are and adjust the simpering accordingly.
The wheel Ford is reinventing here isn’t Savile Row, but Rodeo Drive. He’s just a money- and power-worshipping egofop, a Bijan with Google.