Merchandising matters to me. I'm a visual person. I like pretty things, but more-so I like pretty things that are well curated, artfully displayed in a manner that speaks to me subconsciously, seamlessly melding with my life or rather my dream life with the products on display.
You know the life I'm talking about…full of fabulous well weathered rustic yet fashionably chic leather couches, quirky boldly coloured embroidered throw pillows, delicate hand painted tea cups and frilly over-the-top 1950's inspired aprons.
Have you seen my dream life?
You've probably walked right through it.
You've pranced through my living room without removing your shoes and lounged lazily on my couch.
You picked up some plates in my dining room and regarded them with slight disdain looking for cracks in the china.
And you cheekily waltzed through bedroom and touched my retro inspired sexy, come hither lingerie sets. You may have even brazenly sat upon my bed.
Yes it's true that I have far too many clothes at my house, scattered amongst artwork, large tactile collages I'm trying to finish or my many inspiring books that I've discarded nonchalantly after returning from a cup of tea in the garden.
Yes I'm sure you've visited my dream life.
You've been to Anthropologie and you know what I'm talking about.
They had me at "hello our store looks like a catalogue you want to live in".
The first Anthro store I ever discovered was in NYC years ago. I peered through the windows curious to see what was on display in the art gallery. It wasn't until I walked in and made my way around the huge open space that I realized it was in fact a store. A clothing store no less.
Now I am simply ruined for any other ho hum boring mundane shop that displays its merchandise without thought or creativity.
Where is the excitement?
Where is the romance?
Where is the love people?
Stores with inventory piled high on shelves do not coerce me into a dream-like trance of exploration and discovery ensuring I spend hours leisurely making my way through the museum quality space, taking in every detail of inspiration to feed my incessant desire to admire all things beautiful and possibly uncovering a treasure or two to claim as my own.
When was the last time you felt like sitting down inside a Forever 21 store or a H&M store?
Sitting down to take a load off your aching feet doesn't count BTW.
Can you feel the pull of the merchandising arm when you are trying to decide where to shop?
Does the store environment make a difference to you?
Or am I the only one lusting to live in a catalogue?