Every window tells a story, doesn’t it? At least, they are all trying to in the big leagues of retailing. For the past few years I’ve been reviewing the holiday windows, because I still believe that the styling display of talent in Manhattan is prodigious, and that there are always great ideas to steal.
I remember one year catching fashion editor/stylist Lynn Yeager decking out some windows for the downtown Barneys New York, and she had put the feet of all the furniture in different coffee cups and saucers—a sort of mad-hatter appeal. A few months later, I was creating an event for Royal Worcester Spode and Elle Decor on Bergdorf Goodman’s seventh floor. The magazine’s fine china advertiser wouldn’t let me go as far as Lynn did (the tabletop industry was then stuck in the “shooting gallery” display mode, with all the plates lined up against the wall on shelves behind sliding glass doors), but I did get away with stacking the dishes all askew and the patterns unmatching, as Lynn’s window did. And we ended up with a setting that was a touch Alice in Wonderland, and a successful event and retail promotion—and then I recycled that idea for Elle Decor’s Aspen sales meeting a few months later.
For a few years now, I have been struck by the trend towards storytelling in the holiday windows. Barneys New York of course revolutionized the window-dressing holiday gambit years ago with its papier-mâché celebrity vignettes, which were hysterical (at least for the first few years—sorry, Simon). Its innovation has spurred competitors to make their windows more creative, more immersive (isn’t that the word of the year?), and more interactive.
And what many have come up with is a format that is often directly narrative in nature. Whether this ploy will translate well into the party styling world is up to you guys, but speaking from my experience of braving a bitter cold day, what these windows have is so much content, backstories, and recurring characters, that it took this frost-bitten reporter way longer to stroll Fifth Avenue this year. I’m still trying to warm my little piggies back into action.
I want to start off by applauding whoever did the lighting for the Bloomingdale’s windows. At night, they are beautiful and multi-jeweled, with colors accentuating the movement of the vignettes, but during the day, you stand in front of each window, thinking, “Oh, no this must be the stupidest one of all—no, this one.”
Okay, let me backtrack: The Bloomingdale’s story really is the exact same thing as the Disney ride It’s a Small World, where, no matter where you go, people are pretty much the same. But instead of cherubic singing children, Bloomingdale’s has decided to focus on wealthy fashion victims from around the world. So each vignette, mounted on a revolving lazy susan, at least utilizes the element of suspense nicely, getting you to wait for a wrapped gift box to finally turn around and here are the “Merry Moments of France!” “Cheers from China!”
What to expect? How about the most cliched, commercial, and gaudy image you can conjure for each of those countries, and you’re there!
For France (pictured), there’s La Tour Eiffel! And L’Arc de Triomphe, and a lady walking her twin standard sized poodles. Tres Franglais! The poodles are, of course, dyed to match their owners fur coat—in this case pink.
In Italy, Santa is dressed as a Gondolier, and the Leaning Tower of Pisa and the Vatican serve as backdrops.
Â
The semi-adorable abominable Snowman of Saks Fifth Avenue. I remembered seeing Yeti in one of Saks’s vestibule shadowboxes last year. It was furry and cute and I thought, “Oh they’re trying to co-brand with a cartoon character, a snow monster who legend has it lives on the roof of the store.” Well, either the books sold well, or someone besides me thought Yeti, a white-furred legend with legitimate (if apocryphal) historical references, might be a star.Â
This year he’s been blown into a fully fledged celebrity, with six Fifth Avenue windows telling his tale, which I’ll summarize as follows. He lives in the North Pole or somewhere like that with his parents, who discover he has a unique gift for making beautiful snowflakes by banging his paws together. The science is a little flimsy: They show his paws with two different snowflake designs on each, but somehow each one comes out different.
"No matter, he’s talented," says Mom, gender denoted oddly by red beaded necklace, and she encourages him to show his talent to the world. Geez.
Yeti sets off to the “seventh mound of Manhattan,” but not before being spotted en route by civilians, allowing Saks to do a window with oversize papier-mâché heads (guess they didn’t get the memo that the big heads are over).
Anyway, he gets a gig at Saks making snowflakes, and now you, the consumer can get involved by downloading an app designed by The Science Project, of course, getting assigned a Yeti name and then having a custom-made snowflake created and then projected into the display. Crimey, it was too cold for me to attempt such techno-wizardry, but I saw a few kids with their cell phones trying to do it, and maybe it worked, but let’s just say it wasn’t compelling enough for me to stick around.
Bet Yeti sticks around to make cameo appearances in the traditional fashion windows, which I did find adorable, so the treacliness of Yeti’s backstory wasn’t stuck in my throat when I left.
But the Merry Moments from China (pictured) really threw me for a while. Do we really think of non-Asian-looking mannequins dressed in jewels and fox-trimmed shearling parkas riding bikes when we think of China? Then there is the small child on the back of the woman’s bike on what looks like a rack where more kids could fit. Is this the way parents ride around with their kids on bikes in China? I know I’m a bit provincial but…
Then the narrative of this particular window kicks in. It’s a wealthy American couple who has come to China to enjoy the holidays and adopt a Chinese girl, and they’re riding her around town to show her off. How could I not have seen that?
Okay, now I am really feeling lousy for having complained about the papier-mâché heads of Barneys yore.
And what was I really expecting from the Barneys New York/Jay Z collection, which is not anything he has actually designed, as you might imagine (though his perfume is on the way, ka-ching)? Rather, the collection is mostly a bunch of high-end brands that he likes (Quelle surprise—he likes Balenciaga! Balmain! T. Anthony! Marc by Marc Jacobs!) and that they already carry, with items selected that match the following criteria: black, gold, and/or leather.
And I thought they canceled the launch event over that black profiling stuff (allowing him time to step into his hurriedly announced new role as racial profiling monitor. I am not making this up).
But leaving the merchandise aside for a moment (you’re welcome), what to make of these windows?
Well, as they did with Lady Gaga’s workshop two years ago, they built out onto the street big time, with two geodisic domes—gold plated, natch. From afar you can’t help but wonder what’s in there, so for consumer curb appeal, I have to give props. The domes serve as carnival-like gateways, this way in, that way out sort of thing.
Â
The first one leads you into a dark, really dark room where a sculpture of Manhattan, reflected over (I guess) the East River, is all glowy and sparkly and techno-looking. It changes colors and is very pretty, but my takeaway is “huh?”
Just to be clear that I’m not completely against Jay Z and his over-exposed wife, the virtual sleigh ride is the bomb! It’s a gold version of Luke Skywalker’s land cruiser, with fur blankets to cozy yourself while going on a virtual ride over the rooftops of New York, just like Santa would, if Santa was very gangsta.
There are Mr. and Mrs. Claus actors on hand who don’t add much, but you get to sign up on an iPad afterwards to have the picture of you and your date riding the tricked-out gilded sled, and I have to say that is a much better takeaway than a custom virtual snowflake.
For sheer beauty and intricacy, no one touches Linda Fargo and her team at Bergdorf’s. But since this report is focused on storytelling in windows, this year’s set was not my favorite.
The Web site calls the collection “Holidays on Ice,” while the window explains that there is a window devoted to a holiday each month—think “The 12 Days of Christmas” song. Actually when you think of that song, you remember that not all of the days really make sense. What is so festive about eight poor housemaids milking cows? Likewise, do we really need a holiday window commemorating Arbor Day?
But while the narrative is a bit thin, the craft and artistry and wit are undiminished.
My favorite was the upside-down April Fool's Day window. Once you get beyond the cleverness, the beautiful pale blue Oscar de la Renta gown amidst a sea of white and pastels is yummy looking, like a cupcake with tons of frosting.
Macy’s windows tell the story of a boy who dreams of Christmas. His dream takes him first to a crystal and white winter wonderland, with a giant reindeer made out of ice. It’s pretty fabulous.
Some of the windows are a little more relevant than others (I don’t get the connection between Santa and waterfalls, sorry), but it’s a simple story that ends just as it should, in the boy’s cozy bedroom where a beautiful tree with presents has magically appeared just outside his door.
It’s hokey, but it’s sweet, and—I’ve written this more than once—people look down on Macy’s, but its creative and event teams are top notch. And this set of windows reminds me that Christmas should really be about the kids.
