Tehya is Tired of…Abercrombie & Fitch

Written by Tehya Tenasco

After a long six years of working in food service, I decided to test the waters of retail this past summer. I moved to Boston in June and needed to find a way to make money quickly. Fashion has been a prominent aspect of my life for as long as I can remember, so I figured a part time job selling clothing would be right up my alley. After all, my first ever job was a crew member at McDonald’s during the pandemic. I learned that nothing, and I mean nothing, could be more miserable than fast food. 

I was wrong. I guess it’s true what the internet says about the distinction between fast food and retail service jobs: it all boils down to if you prefer jumpscare horror or psychological horror. 

First and foremost, I’m not a quitter. And when it comes to making money, I’ll try any job once. I was hired at the Abercrombie & Fitch in Fanueli Hall after a half-assed video based interview process where I sat on my bedroom floor and recorded my answers to a series of questions I can’t remember. The idea of having a job is more enjoyable than actually working one. 

My first day of training was fairly enjoyable. I learned how to neatly fold clothes for display and how to properly greet customers when they walk into the store, because apparently “Hi! Welcome in!” isn’t worthy of $16 an hour. I found out that my manager had a masters degree in WLP from Emerson, and that I was guaranteed a 25% associate discount. I didn’t end up using this discount for one outstanding reason. The clothes being sold were priced far too high for the percentage of polyester they were made of.  

Quick disclaimer here, I’m not completely against the style of clothing modern Abercrombie carries. There’s obviously a demographic for corporate fashion and a demand for basic pieces, but my issue lies in the price versus the quality of these clothes. To be completely honest, I think there are more interesting options for a better price at Walmart. Seriously, I don’t play about the No Boundaries rebrand. Everything in that store is at least $50. I know this because I was told that the high pricing was to rope customers into opening an Abercrombie points account, to where they would receive a $10 coupon for a purchase over $50. One, $10 is nothing. Two, why does Big Polyester want my email address so badly? 

Over the course of three months, I witnessed the same overworked, pattern-vomit sundresses hit racks for upwards of $80, just to go on sale three weeks later when the new batch of wrinkle-nightmare dresses would replace them. Nobody bought the sale dresses. Maybe it’s because they were moved to a separate sale rack in the back of the store and were no longer what Abercrombie considered “trendy”. 

I quit in late August, right before school started. Not solely because I thought the job was indeed psychological warfare, but mostly because I was sick of trying to convince myself these clothes were worth $16 an hour for measly four hour shifts twice a week. Some might call that weakness, or letting the job run your life. In my eyes, my passion for clothing was stronger than my willingness to stand in a windowless stockroom ripping 90% polyester shirts out of shipping plastic for four hours straight. Surprisingly, I think my short time as a store associate for Abercrombie & Fitch increased my passion for fashion. I love clothes, and I hate to see them treated so sloppily. Yes, maybe I’m being a bit melodramatic, but maybe I’m okay with that.