By Cambrey N. Thomas
At 10 a.m. on a busy morning the doors of Barneys’ new outpost in downtown Brooklyn opened for the first time and the locals walked by nonchalantly as if its windows were still covered with paper.
“Are you from Brooklyn?” asked the greeter at the door who wore red aviator glasses. He was from D.C.
“Inside Above, So Below” by The Klaxons played overhead as part of a bubbly play list of soul music and Brit rock. Waiters in white shirts and black ties served glasses of chilled apple cider and mini black-and-white cookies on black lacquered trays.
The puckish Barneys’ creative director, Simon Doonan, paced back and fourth while talking quietly with his staff, all clad in black.
Translucent green mannequins wearing Alexander Wang and slouchy hats towered above the scattering of early morning shoppers. Most were women pushing baby strollers or carrying toddlers while sifting through racks of clothes.
Doonan even helped a woman carry her baby stroller up the stairs and out the door.
One shopper, wearing a large camping-style backpack, asked a salesman if they had anything in a size 18 or 20. The salesman dashed to the back to check only to return moments later with a “no.”
At the table of apple ciders and waters, a pompadour-coiffed server from Astoria said he had served only 15 ciders. “Maybe people don’t want to drink and shop,” he said.
Outside, a man in a cargo jacket peered through each window, cupping his hands around his eyes to minimize the glare. Another man, this one in a Yankees hat, did the same. Soon a group of men in paint-splattered clothes came by.
“It won’t fit me,” said one, glancing through the window, waving his hands, pointing at everything. But before he could elaborate, the slimmest of the group walked into the store, forcing his pals to trail behind him.
Meanwhile, a few doors down at Urban Outfitters, stood a woman who had left Barneys empty-handed. “I didn’t see a sale rack,” she said.
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