conversation is an engine

News today that Abercrombie and Fitch must pay a Minnesota family $115,264 for discriminating against a disabled person when the store refused to accommodate a daughter with disabilities. The autistic youth needed help in the dressing room from her sister, which A&F clerks would not allow. After repeated attempts, the girl said she “felt like a misfit” at Abercrombie and Fitch. It took a lawsuit to even get the matter noticed by the company. The result was a fine, though certainly “hefty” by the standards of a $3.5 billion business (in sales last year).

Two interesting features of the story reported in the StarTribune: one is that disabilities are not always outward in appearance. You cannot always see a person’s disability. Though Abercrombie and Fitch had a policy for accommodation, stores clerks understood that to mean visible disabilities and would not accept that there are other types. And that points to a lack of training at Abercrombie and Fitch, though in fact they say they have an “innovative and provocative approach to [diversity] education that we call reality-based learning.” Perhaps someone needs to mention to Abercrombie and Fitch that just calling something “reality-based” does not make it so.

I cannot help but wonder if the very goals of Abercrombie and Fitch are as much to blame as the lackluster clerk training. I’ll admit I know next to nothing about the organization. But from a brand perspective, I have gained all the information I need. The truth is still the same: brand impressions are the extent of our interactions with most organizations. After raising teenagers and hearing their impressions of the merchant, and just by simply passing the store myself, the brand message is clear enough: become a beautiful person by buying Abercrombie and Fitch stuff. The store’s narrow understanding of beauty and constant attention to sensuality trivializes the human condition and sends a load of false messages to everyone who comes in contact with it. I know that the Minnesota girl is not alone in feeling like a misfit—I saw my kids and their friends rejecting the company’s narrow view, along with the products they peddled.

There’s no question that beauty and sex sell—they always have—but Abercrombie and Fitch’s surface perspective seems to have affected their approach to everything. And my evolving impression of the Abercrombie and Fitch brand is that they use beauty and sensuality to sell false versions of reality to kids. And now I know their surface way of looking at things discriminates against people with disabilities.

It’s time to shop elsewhere.

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