Thursday, 1 March 2012

Hollister: What a cunt of a shop

On a nice spring day like today, what is an ‘in-between roles ‘ soap character like me to do other than hop on the bus to town for a mooch round the shops and enjoy a few bevies with old friends?

I fancied myself a new pair of denims, as my favourite stone wash Wranglers are getting a bit old now, so I was wandering through Liverpool One trying to find this G-Star shop that @TinheadFTM recommended and I came across this strange smell.  It smelled like the scent of really pretentious rich teenagers who would pay more for a popped collar polo shirt than I paid for my first car.

I looked to my left to see where this overpowering odour was coming from, and saw some kind of strange surf shack / beach house thing, with loud funky music blasting out of the dark window shutters.

“What. The. Fuck’s. This?”   I said to my double denimed self. I thought it was a nightclub or something, so popped in for a Babycham. 

“Hey, welcome to Hollister”  goes this posh-non-scouse- bird wearing a checked shirt 4 sizes too big for her and some denim hotpants.  *note to self:  get some of those hotpants for Summer*    I just about heard her over the ear-rapingly loud music.

Once my eyes had adjusted to the fact that it’s darker than a Chilean mine shaft in there, I realised I wasn’t in a bar, but was actually in some fucked up Californian fraternity house type shop that would fit right in on the set of the 90210 remake.

Piles of overpriced t-shirts resting neatly on a dining table that defo used to be me Nan’s... A load of trackies rolled up stored in a bookcase ...  A load of hoodies folded with a ruler and spirit level placed on a rustic wooden bench...   fuck me.. Never seen such bad grip in my life.

“Hey, what’s up.”  Goes this open shirted-non-scouse-bloke.

“I’ll tell you what’s up, I can’t see fuck all, I can’t hear myself think, and WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS PLACE? And why can’t you just turn the big light on?”

Instead of answering me, the beaut just flexed his muscles and flashed his Hollywood smile.

I was then distracted by two lads trying to decide which t-shirt was most, and I quote, “epic”.
 Who the fuck calls a T-shirt epic?  I’ll tell you who DOESN’T...  scousers!  These two were obviously Uni students who need to bail the fuck out of Liverpool the day they graduate before they end up another statistic on the Echo’s gun crime map.

Another waft of aftershave (Eau de Pretentious) came through the air conditioning and I nearly vommed,  I had to get out of this non-scouse hell hole and fast. But then I seen that the shopping bags have a proper fit guy with no top on them, so I had to buy something didn’t I.   

Ended up with this monstrosity.....  --->

Thought it was beige coz of the light in there, didn’t I. Turns out its the colour of a Mr Kipling lemon fondant fancy and now @TinheadFTM is calling me “a bad nonce and a wool combined”.

Moral of the story is... 
Hollister is not scouse.
Hollister = wool
Popped collars = wool
Clothes that are solid primary colours = wool 
Wanting to look like you're off the set of 90210 = wool
Saying a tshirt is epic = ThunderCuntish


  1. Hahahahahahahahahaha is right there Jim !! Fucking American wanna be mings !

  2. thats not a fuckin seagull on that shirt, its a fuckin clingon space ship.....

  3. once again mr corkhill you have 'hit the nail on the head.' All these fancy stores in liverpool 1 selling overpriced clothes that you can will be able to get in primark etc for a quarter of the price in 2 months time, and they seem to be full of wools working there and 'tourist shoppers.'st johns and graty rule

  4. I remember my one and only venture into this shop I got lost couldn't find my way out it was that dark the assistant helped me of course but I remember politely saying why don't you turn up the light I keep expecting freddie cruger to jump out its like a fuckin haunted house

  5. You're a spiteful twat Corkhill, fancy a bevvie sometime.

  6. See also Aberystwyth and Felch or whatever the fuck it's called.

  7. brilliant bang on

  8. "before they end up another statistic on the Echo’s gun crime map"

    Hahaha! Legend Jimmy Lad :)

  9. I saw the barley wine woman shop lifting in there last Satdee

  10. Is there something wrong with being non-scouse? You're just encouraging hatred and the kind of aggressive twatting of outsiders that gave our city the wrong sort of name.

    Hollister may well be a cunt of a shop, but some of the stuff you add in the middle of that... well, frankly, it's as nasty as the 70's when my nan couldn't get a B&B room in the lakes because she came from our great city.

  11. Haha so true my daughter loves that shop and when we go in the staff can hear me grumbling all the way round. "mum does this top look ok?" I dont know I can't fucking see it!!!!!

  12. A complete fuck hole of a shop. Even had a sign in the door saying no dogs except guide dogs, so they equip them with night vision now or what. Or maybe I missed the counter where they lend you one for while you're there.