American Apparel makes me f*cking nauseous.
Actually, let me restate that. American Apparel’s ads make me f*cking nauseous.
Their clothes are fine—if you enjoy looking like every other “non conformist” out there—but their ads are so annoying I feel the need to scream at everyone involved in making them.
It’s no news that AA enjoys exploiting the tired, probably drugged, dead-eyed look of the ubiqutious New York Hipster, but I just can’t understand how skinny, messy haired models photographed in bad lighting is supposed to make me want to buy clothes.
I guess if I was as desperate as them to be cool, saw a bunch of sluggish girls wearing one-piece bodysuits, and thought to myself, “Wearing an American Apparel bodysuit will make me so cool I’ll be bored!” I’d be likely to buy a brightly hued shirt or two.
But other than having no sense of self, I can’t understand why jaded models who look like they’re 12 would influence me to purchase anything—let alone a pair of silver lamé work-out shorts.
Like those incredibly stupid Abercrombie and Fitch advertisements, the seedy, almost pornographic print ads for American Apparel make me think they’re more interested in selling a brand of coolness than clothes. Which is, so obviously, not cool.
Wear our stuff, the ads seem to be saying, and somehow, your sexuality will increase.
They can, however, transform a person into a traffic hazard. Gag me.