the spectacle

The Ladies’ Paradise
Rianne Groen

When you enter Harrods, one of the world’s most famous department stores, all your senses are sharpened at once. A door is held open for you, upon which you enter through a wade of perfume. Faces smile at you, you smile back. Your feet sink in the carpet as you see a perfectly lit Yves Saint Laurent bag. But the true spectacle of Harrods is to be found in the center of the store: the Egyptian staircase. You enter a world of splendor, kitsch and banal wealth, and you will love it. While going up the escalators, the gold shimmers and soft music plays. The smell of perfume shifts to the smell of luxury leather goods. When you get off at one of the floors, it is hard to get back. There are so many objects of desire…

Posters of celebrities are displayed all over the walls, promoting fashion or other must-haves. Their faces are comforting: they are the spectacular representations of living human beings, here to be worshipped by us.
The gold of the escalators, the Egyptian ornaments, are all as fake as you can make them. But this is exactly what we like so much about them: it is as fake as the special effects in the old Star Wars movies, but we enjoy the fake to enjoy the spectacle.
Halfway down the escalators is a reminder to perhaps one of the most spectacular events in media history: it is a monument to Dodi Al Fayed, son of Harrods’ former owner, and Princess Diana. The monument is shaped in the form of a glass pyramid. It holds a wineglass with a lipstick mark of the princess. In its sentimentality and in memory of the event it perfectly fits the spectacle of the Egyptian staircase.
When you leave the Egyptian staircase to find yet another floor of commodities, you enter a place called the shoe boudoir. In this dark place, commodity fetishism is at its best. Diamond encrusted sandals are placed on a marble base, lit by several small spots to dazzle you. The heels are so high and thin you do not even dare to touch them. These shoes are truly not for wearing.

The people at Harrods proudly claim to sell ‘all things for all people, everywhere’. When Ronald Reagan once phoned Harrods to ask if they sold elephants, the reply was “would that be African or Indian sir?”. The department store is a whole world in objects, turning into an objectified world. The manifestation of the spectacle makes us into consumers of illusions.
The spectacle sucks us in, and without noticing you are standing outside with several bags in your hand. We take our commodities to the counter, and when we have paid they ask us: “do you need anything else?”. Difficult question.