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Have you heard from your buddy lately? You know, Thomas Hilfiger! I thought you were best pals, after all you'd do anything for him including paying $80 a pop to look like a complete tool. Sure he likes you too, you're gullible and (more importantly) you have Disposable Income.
Anyway, I just wanted to congratulate you on having such a great role model - I mean, the guy must be some sort of genius to build an entire marketing empire on the basis of a mediocre logo. Really, it's nothing particularly artistic or interesting, a vague knockoff of Mondrian in jingoistic red-white-blue and the name of some asshole who wouldn't know you from a cockroach in his summer villa.
Ha ha, silly me! Of course people don't buy Hilfiger for the logo, they buy it for the design and quality. a) it's a fucking shirt. No one notices or cares how well (or not) it hangs off you. b) The quality of Hilfiger apparel is average at best, after all the children working in sweatshops for 5˘ an hour wouldn't be able to fill their quotas if they had to craft Tommy shirts to be more durable than no-name shirts. They don't have to anyway, even the flimsiest socks will sell for ten bucks a pair if branded with The Logo. Thus, The Bay is forced to use chains and padlocks to secure the most average-looking apparel from the clutches of the fashion-conscious.
Well anyhow, sorry to have kept you so long! Your eyes must be tired by now from all these words. Just go put on your Hilfiger underpants, jeans, shirt, cap, jacket, footwear and watch, and run along to the mall where you can show off your individuality to the couple million other people wearing the same thing.
Smooches,
Alexandra Kennie
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