Why New Yorkers Yearn for Barneys

"(A baby sand shark named Sinatra eventually had to be removed, for bullying his tank mates.) Across its nine floors, the store boasted twenty-three escalators, trimmed in goatskin leather. But construction delays meant that they didn't start revolving until the final moments before the grand-opening party, and new escalators need at least two weeks of use to stretch out their creaks."

"But construction delays meant that they didn't start revolving until the final moments before the grand-opening party, and new escalators need at least two weeks of use to stretch out their creaks. They also reeked strongly of new leather. As starry guests including Calvin Klein and Julia Child noshed on a quarter of a million dollars' worth of canapés, the smelly staircases transporting them around the store wailed like tormented souls, more banshee curse than siren song."

"These ghosts in the machine are documented in the journalist Joshua Levine's gleefully venomous chronicle " The Rise and Fall of the House of Barneys " (1999), written at a moment when the store was at the height of its cultural influence-and staring down a precipitous decline. "The Pressman family has steadfastly refused to cooperate with the writing of this book," Levine wrote mischievously, of the retail dynasty that founded and stewarded Barneys through the twentieth century."

Barneys' Madison Avenue flagship opened in 1993 as a lavish, $267 million store clad in French limestone with custom aquariums and goatskin-trimmed escalators. New escalators creaked and smelled of leather due to construction delays, creating a theatrical, chaotic atmosphere during the grand opening attended by celebrities. The Pressman family continued to funnel money into extravagant storefronts even as business weakened and Japanese investors began to pull out. Family influence and cultural cachet persisted amid controversy. Barneys ultimately folded in 2020, leaving a legacy that extended beyond clothing retail.

Read at The New Yorker