The Waiting Game
IMAGINE THIS SCENARIO: a group of well-dressed executives are clustered around a conference table at the immaculate headquarters of a major fashion brand in Paris or Milan. In the middle of the table is a prototype of a new bag/boot/skirt/coat. It is exquisitely made and exorbitantly priced. The executives decree that this will be the 'next big thing' and deploy their marketing people to spread the word, while ensuring that production is limited. A few months later the product is on waiting lists in Buenos Aires and Hong Kong, Dallas and Tokyo. Fashionistas are mad for it, while the company's refrain is the same: we just can't make enough to satisfy demand. The more everyone wants it, the more everyone else wants it. The Waiting Game has begun.
That might sound far-fetched, but it isn't. With a clutch of brands steering a multibillion-dollar high-fashion industry, and competition at its most heated at any time in its history, brands vie with one another season after season to come up with the new 'must-have'. The genesis of the product might be a creatively organic one. And the buzz around it is often a combination of marketing and natural forces (such as fashion editors loving it as soon as it appears on the catwalk). But the result of the hype, however it is generated, is always the same: waiting lists at shops across the globe, from Prada to Barneys, Louis Vuitton to On Pedder.
Often shoppers have to wait a month or two to get their hands on the latest sought-after item. Not that it matters; while fashion might initially appear to be a case of immediate gratification, there's also a competitive element to it. There's something immensely lofty about saying you're on the waiting list for the new Chloe or Balenciaga, in as much as it testifies to your finger being on the pulse. To want something that much, especially in style-conscious cities such as Hong Kong and New York, is something of which to be rather proud.
Much of the time, the big fashion houses decree what's going to be hot, and such is the power of advertising that consumers are ready to buy into it. But not always. 'Most of the waiting lists are for items of a grand level of luxury, items that are special and often handmade by a limited number of craftsmen,' says David Wolfe, creative director of the Donegar Group in New York, a fashion and retail consultancy firm. 'The companies would be delighted to make more if they could, but not if they want to ensure the same fine quality.'
The phenomenon began with the Hermes bag - first the Kelly, then the Birkin, which remain the most iconic and in-demand products of all time. Named after actress Jane Birkin, it is handmade and has the identification number of the craftsman stamped on its strap. The waiting list for the woman in the street is up to three years - if you can get on in time (demand exceeds supply to such an extent that many shops have 'closed' the list). Martha Stewart took a Birkin to her trial, generating even more publicity for the bag. A good condition Birkin can fetch up to US$10,000 - almost double its retail price - on eBay and at Milan Station in Causeway Bay.
Elsewhere, whether companies can and do make enough of the sought-after items of the season is debatable. Even if they could, it might not be such a great idea; after all, who wants something that is easily available to the masses?
Price is irrelevant in the waiting-list game; the more expensive something is, the more likely that everyone who can afford one will want one. Many of the most sought-after items in designer repertoires around the world are at least HK$10,000.
In addition to the price tag, it's all about who is seen wearing or carrying the product. When Madonna was spotted recently carrying Prada's Gauffre bag from its autumn 2006 collection (retail price, about US$1,800), Prada stores were inundated with calls.
'I'm not a person who wants what Madonna has, but I do happen to love this bag,' says Merle Ginsberg, a contributing editor to Harper's Bazaar. 'I called the Beverly Hills and New York stores and went to the company directly to make sure I got on the waiting list. I wasn't going to fool around.'
That kind of dedication has elevated waiting lists to something of a phenomenon in the fashion world. 'People pride themselves on their ability to find these things,' says Booth Moore, fashion critic at the Los Angeles Times. 'It's a badge of honour to be able to navigate through the fashion scene and find a hot product.'
While the items might vary, the names do not. For several seasons straight, Fendi, Chloe, Balenciaga, Prada and Louis Vuitton have produced accessories or items from their ready-to-wear collections that have gone on to garner huge amounts of attention. When Louis Vuitton realised it needed to entice customers to buy more than its durable Speedy duffle bag or the versatile Alma Tote, it began collaborating with artists such as Stephen Sprouse, Julie Verhoeven and Takashi Murakami to create limited-edition bags. What ensued was a global waiting-list frenzy. There was the same reaction when Fendi released its Spy bag and Chloe launched its Edith - Hong Kong's boutiques were only able to show their clientele a picture of the bag for reference once they were on the waiting list.
Which leads to another truth about waiting lists - they most certainly are not equalisers, as most people would assume. 'It depends who you are,' says Moore. 'Aerin Lauder will have no problem getting a Birkin bag whenever she wants it, unlike average people.' When Sharon Stone attended the recent re-opening of the Louis Vuitton flagship store in Paris, she scored a US$5,000 bag, thereby sidetracking the usual four-month waiting list. At Tod's, a new autumn bag, the Marlene, is in US shops two months in advance of boutiques in Europe and Asia because of the influence celebrities have. A Tod's spokesman says every season includes a piece that goes on to become a 'cult bag' - and for autumn, the Marlene is it.
Ginsberg equates the waiting-list culture to a test of wits and patience. 'That mentality of, 'I can't have it so I must have it' is psychology 101,' she says. 'The women I know who get on these waiting lists go out a lot, work really hard and are naturally competitive. They are not wallflowers, and when they want a bag, they want a bag. They have a lot of stuff, and if they are not married to people who make good money, they make good money themselves. They've got a lot of time to kill, and this is a way they can spend that time. It revolves around a quest for something that's hard to get.'
When Chanel's Black Satin nail polish was launched in July, there was a run on it in Los Angeles shops the day it was released. The US$18 product had acquired waiting lists at Neiman Marcus and Macy's, lending credence to the belief that not all desirable items have to be expensive. The response was similar to the unveiling of the 1994 Chanel polish, Vamp.
Jaye Hersh, owner of Los Angeles boutique Intuition, which has a strong celebrity following, says waiting-list items transcend every price category.
The shop recently launched a collection in collaboration with retailer Target, a limited-edition line that has exceeded all expectations. Also hot: printed thermals by a line called Primp and sweatshirts from a label called Mike & Chris.
'They came in and people went crazy for them,' says Hersh. 'It's all about timing. In general, these waiting lists help business unless a customer gets frustrated. But for the most part, it's about supply and demand.'
Fashion observer Dianne Bates, who writes an online newsletter cataloguing goings-on in society and fashion, rails against the phenomenon. 'It's become this monster that's eating itself up,' she says. 'But people are sheep, apparently.'
Ultimately, it's all about immediacy. Moore says she has become 'savvy' about tracking the latest hot item, calling the less obvious shops in smaller towns, or resorting to the internet.
Ginsberg says the speed with which knockoffs hit the market help stem the tide. 'Once you see the young girls carrying it, it's over,' she says. 'Once it's counterfeited, nobody wants it any more. And I won't wait that long. If I don't have my autumn product by September, I don't want it any more.'
