Moncler, Where the Parkas Need a Bouncer
Moncler, Where the Parkas Need a Bouncer
FIRST, the good news: Moncler is hiring. I witnessed it myself, retail reporters and seekers of employment. Two young people went into the store last week, dressed unflamboyantly, carrying sheaves of résumés probably meant for every boutique south of Union Square. One got an impromptu (informational?) interview on the spot. None of the on-duty salespeople seemed ruffled by the intrusion. Maybe they were a bit relieved.
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Elizabeth Lippman for The New York Times
Because, of course, there is bad news: Moncler needs the help. When I arrived at the store that day, the front door was locked, manned by an unsmiling security guard. A European woman waited in front of me, toting a baby in a fleece cap. It was one of the uncharacteristically cold days that landed too soon this year. Just inside the store, a mannequin in a dark jacket and leggings sat on a blanket of fur, a fox pelt tied around her head. She looked warm.
Over a span of 15 minutes, at least 10 people left the store, but none of the dozen or so who were clustering at the door, some in mild shiver, were allowed in. There was griping, but little resistance, all of us resigned to the absurdity of waiting outside in winteresque temperatures to be allowed into a store that exclusively sells cold-weather gear.
Finally the security guard opened the door and intoned, “Ten people!” A few minutes later,buy moncler coats I heard one salesclerk tell the security guard: “Even four people is too many. Now they’re asking me questions.”
He was totally right. The long, thin sliver of a space, with unending racks of puffy jackets on either side, was never less than busy. This is Moncler’s second stand-alone store in the country; the other is in Aspen. A third is opening shortly in Chicago.
For low complexity clothing — outerwear, knit caps, gloves — these items certainly required hands-on service. Patrons spent a remarkable amount of time in front of the store’s huge mirrors,moncler ski pants sampling styles different only by the faintest degree. Huge white bags tagged with the company’s logo flew out of the store steadily, many of them probably filled with one of the signature Michelin-Man-fat jackets and vests, which make up a significant percentage of the inventory. They are garments that bring commodity fetishism to outerwear, turning a basic into a covetable thing.
The jackets, long the preserve of skiers (the company was founded in 1952), began appearing on fashionable hip-hop crowds a few years ago, widening the company’s reach beyond specialty shoppers. They come in a slate of bold and sometimes disquieting colors, often shiny, and, for winter wear, are relatively slimming.
Personally, I prefer a winter jacket that doesn’t advertise itself as such, largely because I prefer to engage with winter only theoretically. I love cold weather; I just dislike participating in activities that require cold weather. I am at no risk of getting caught underdressed in Gstaad, or on Hunter Mountain, or even in a steep bit of Riverside Park.
For me, there was the Republique jacket, a sleek combination of wool, nylon and leather ($1,550), the first winter jacket I’ve considered buying in years. If I give in, it will end my proud tradition of layering heavily under a thin jacket, an act of psychology more than function or fashion.
In the back of the store is the Moncler Gamme Bleu collection, a collaboration with Thom Browne, which consists of formal-looking pieces for dashing prewar Olympians. A lined gray single-breasted blazer ($2,150) was charming, a legitimate alternative to traditional outerwear. (There was also an alternative to the alternative, a blazer made wholly of beaver fur, which had the heavy feeling of sacrifice to it.)
There was a pair of stunning vests, one in navy ($1,700), the other in wide blue and white horizontal stripes ($1,530), cut short in the Browne style. Royal blue corduroy cargo pants with wide legs ($850) were presumably made to be worn over ski boots, though they weren’t alluring enough to distract from the fact that you’re choosing clothes to complement your ski boots.
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