These apartment ornaments demonstrate everything wrong with America today
Ah, Urban Outfitters. You bastion of tacky hipster crap. You're proof that white Republican dudes can get rich by selling prepackaged rebellion to an easily manipulated youth. The irony is enough to make any hipster blush.
Sure, you sell some cute clothes. I'll give you that. A decent fraction of my wardrobe comes from your sale racks. Your price to quality ratio is even worse than some of your partners in crime, as many of your garments barely last me the year, but I'll forgive you on that. It's your "Apartment" department that really gets me stabby, Urban. "Apartment", not "Home", because we're all hip young PBR-guzzling loft-dwelling parent-mooching bourgeois bohemians, not stodgy housewives outfitting a two-story. God forbid.
The fact that all these items are listed and stocked means that people actually buy this stuff. The only people I can think of who would be impulsive/vacantly trendy enough to want decor like this certainly don't have a good enough job to procure it. I guess there are a lot of parents out there who just want to nurture their precious offspring's creative taste well into her twenties, no matter the cost. After all, if you outfit the high-rise she can't pay for with enough aggressively offbeat furniture, she'll probably end up writing the next great American novel. That's usually how that works. Creative minds need creative surroundings, you see. One can only make capital-A Art while sitting in a four hundred dollar chair that looks like it was salvaged from a Brooklyn dumpster.
Here are some nice entries in the ongoing series of "why I hate everything".
You're a free spirit, see. And you need to prove that to all your friends. Of course, doing things like making art or frolicking in a field or hiking or whatever the arty types are doing these days actually takes effort. Why go to all that measure when you could just hang a woven basket from the ceiling and call it a chair? That way you can curl up uncomfortably in the tiny, scratchy seat to try starting Infinite Jest for the ninth time. Or get cozy with a gentleman friend while adding the challenge of not falling on the floor during your private time. Danger makes makeouts exciting! Also, what the hell is a Marrakech?
You know. In case you feel like paying three hundred dollars for a side table that looks like it was stitched together by a senile widow at a crafts fair. Apparently this "intriguing bohemian night stand" is covered in "vintage Indian saris". Because if there's one thing better than pointless ethnic appropriation, it's vintage ethnic appropriation. I wonder if the table comes with proof that these saris were worn by trendsetting Indian ladies in the '70s and not just printed off exclusively for the sake of making the table? But you know what, I trust Urban. They probably did send a gaggle of tradesmen to India to harvest the finest of threadbare scarves.
If you're outfitting your place after the interior design stylings of one Sigmund Freud, Urban has got just the thing for you. For only $579, you too can let your lady friends feel comfortable while you attempt to decipher their dreams. All you need now is a beard, a cocaine habit, and an unhealthy fixation with incest. This luxurious lounge comes in four colors (including "Dusty Rose") and ships to Canada, too!
Oh, good. I love paying extra for an "antique" finish. Waiting for my wood to decay on its own just takes too darn long. Also, when did we start locking up our necklaces in scary cages? No accessory deserves that.
Um. What? Is this funny? Is this how people make funny these days? Paying thirty bucks for a vinyl shark trophy? I don't understand the world anymore.
I just...nope. I can't anymore. We're finished, Urban. We're done. You're charging $40 for a cardboard make-believe chandelier. It's even "top rated". What are we doing, playing house? Oh...well, I guess we sort of are. But let's call it "playing apartment". For propriety's sake.