My trip to the world's most famous department store

This Sunday I finally got around to taking a trip over to Harrod's, which bills itself as the world's most famous department store. And considering that I have actually heard of this store prior to going to England, despite the fact that I am entirely out of the loop as far as high-brow consumer culture goes, I would have to say that label is probably entirely accurate. So, what does the most posh department store in the world look like to the eyes of a poor quasi-white trash guy from Idaho? Well, if I had to sum it up in one word, it would be this: hilarious.

Now, that is probably an unfair description, but like I said, I only gave myself one word. If I had to describe it in a little more detail, I would say it was visually an amazing place, but still had more than its fair share of the sublime and preposterous. The store itself it six levels in all, and the ground floor really is something to behold. Each separate room has its own style, and the entire level is jam packed with cafes and markets. They have different rooms for cheeses, meats, and candies, each utterly opulent. Here are a few pics I found online here, here, and here. And their central escalators go up an Egyptian themed interior, which actually looks cooler than it sounds. And the department store itself is rather enormous, which means they have a fairly great selection of stuff to browse through and peek at.

So why do I saw Harrod's is so hilarious, then? Well, for one, because it is so outrageously overpriced and so famous, most of the locals give it a pass, which means most of the people it attracts to its premises are of the wealthy traveller subset. This means that there are loads of women in their late 40's who are overtanned and wearing overtight clothes in a desperate attempt to look 19 again. And you know that movie "What Women Want", with Mel Gibson? You know, the one where he could suddenly hear the thoughts of all gals around him? Well, I had a "What Women Want" moment around these ladies, and I swear their thoughts were all screaming "Please don't let my fat businessman husband run off with some gold-digging tramp half my age! I dug that gold first, and I'll be damned if I lose it now!" And yes, you do also see a fair number of aging businessmen with their trophy arm candy. Like I said: hilarious.

To be fair, I'm quite sure I look equally hilarious to all these people who have earned more money in a week than I've seen in my whole life. After all, I am in a posh department store wearing worn out sneakers I bought three years, cheap Levis and an $8 hooded sweatshirt from Wal-Mart. Like I said, I'm white trash.

So, what else is so funny about this place? Well, some of the clothes are an absolute riot. Look, I'm not against there being expensive clothes in the world. Nice cashmere and the like really are luxurious, and expensive for a reason. And people are always going to want to show off their wealth whenever they can. That is understandable. But what I don't get are people who are so rich that they feel the need to buy clothes that are so flat out hideous just to say to the world "I don't have to look good, I'm rich. I know I look like shit, but guess what, it cost a lot!"

Examples? Well, how about the ugliest pants I've ever seen, which only cost about $800. Honestly. Those look like something the New Kids on the Block might have worn back in the day. Even if someone gave me a pair of those for free, I would simply refuse to wear them out in public. Those pants are an invitation to get your ass kicked, or, at the very least, get you sent off to the looney bin for a bit. And if that wasn't absurd enough, there was the Powerwheels on steroids gift they had in the kids section. Unlike the normal plastic cars, this was a full metal scaled down Hummer for kids. The price tag for this monstrosity? $40,000. Who...whu...I mean who...WHY? Why would you spend $40,000 on a mini-Hummer for you kids? Wow, talk about teaching them to be self-centered assholes from an early age. I'm getting visions of Britney Spears or Paris Hilton's kids in one of these someday, tearing around the lawn trying to run over the hired help. God help us all.

The final bit of comedy? Well, while searching through the Harrod's website, I decided to try and get a catalogue just to have something to flip through. And what did I find on their catalogue page but this little gem:

Hampers
The perfect gift for friends, family or colleagues. An extensive range of hampers are available for all tastes and budgets.

That's right. They only had two catalogues available to order, and the first one there was for goddamn hampers. The "perfect gift." For who, slobs? Hobos and tramps? You know what I would do if someone told me they bought me a present from the world's most posh department store and it turned out to be a bloody sodding clothes hamper? I would turn to them, stare them directly in the eye, and say just two words: Fuck you.

How else can you react to getting a damn clothes hamper for Christmas. Lord...And the fact that they actually publish an entire catalogue devoted to clothes hampers is a real gut-buster, that is. I can say without hesitation that I have never, ever dreamily windowshopped in the clothes hamper section of any store I have ever been in. Who does that? Apparently aging trophy wives, judging by the people in Harrod's.