Experiential Retail Needs to Die

You make your way to the end of a line wrapped around two New York City blocks.

You purchased these tickets weeks ago but you’re still relegated to stand with all the other sweaty, #basic schmucks in the 95 degree humidity.

There are children – a rare sight in the Meatpacking district – fidgeting in anticipation (or iPad-withdrawal).

After two hours, you finally cross the threshold into a technicolor nightmare. It’s like a lactose-intolerant unicorn vomited all over a Yayoi Kasuma installation.

You shuffle through the six room “maze”, simple enough that your brain can avoid any unnecessary activity beyond pure sensory stimulation (and so that you don’t take too long).

They try to sell you something. Maybe you give in because, hey, you’re there and you guess it’s kind of cute. Maybe you don’t, because you certainly don’t need a soft serve-shaped pillow and who wants to carry an extra bag to brunch anyway?

Ten minutes later you leave, with a few artfully-staged, soon-to-be-Facetuned selfies and a two-second Boomerang in a sprinkle pool. A little older, certainly not wiser (maybe even a little dumber?), with just one question lingering.

What was the point?

Συνέχεια ανάγνωσης εδώ

Πηγή: collaborativefund.com