How To Even…Operate A Chain Of Retail Clothing Stores After the Apocalypse
By CL Bledsoe and Michael Gushue
Well, looks like the world is probably going to end soon, which is a shame, because we just got our couch groove nice and comfy. It seems like folks are bound and determined to bring on the Apocalypse, which is darned inconsiderate. But what are we talking about when we say “apocalypse?” In some languages, it’s a species of frog, in others, a mixed drink. Some people give it a specific religious meaning equivalent to “I’m rubber and you’re glue. Everything you say bounces off me and sends you to a pit of molten sulfur to be violated by an enormous locust with the face of Howdy-Doody.” Of course, it loses something in the translation.
Let’s keep it simple. What we mean is a global catastrophic event that destroys civilization and drastically curtails all human potential for millennia. But — for us — it also means an event that opens up unlimited entrepreneurial opportunities to increase market share and build a ground up profit-making venture.
There are of course scads of books, guides, and how-to’s that purportedly tell you how to survive the apocalypse, aka zombie attacks, aka Armageddon, aka post-rapture. But why do these losers set their sights so low? Blah blah blah potable water blah blah blah non-perishable food blah blah blah secured location. Blah blah blah not being eaten by neighbors who’ve become cannibals even though when I invited them over six months ago, they complained about gluten blah blah blah. If we may be allowed to make a comment: Yawn.
The question that never gets asked is, “How can I monetize the social upheaval and resource availability changes caused by this unfortunate but inevitable event?” The answer is “by providing new goods and services needed as a result of the catastrophic destruction of everything we hold dear.”
What these so called “survival guides” always leave out is practical, fashionable clothing and accessories. It’s like they think that people who’ve reverted to eating car tires won’t still be concerned about fashion. We don’t know about you, but that’s not how we roll.
Two things we’ve noticed about many movies depicting post-apocalyptic landscapes is that they tend to be barren, even desert landscapes, and everyone wears a lot of leather. This is incredibly impractical for several reasons. One, leather doesn’t breathe. In the desert, you’re going to be sweating a lot, and that funk is just going to sit there. Also, we imagine your diet isn’t going to be the best, either, which is probably going to lead to some gastrointestinal distress. Aside from the smell we’ve already mentioned, it’s not that easy to get leather pants off quickly when you REALLY need to. This is all also ignoring the obvious problem: where does the leather come from? Cows? The best-case scenario for the apocalypse is that cows will have evolved into super-intelligent creatures who will rule over the surviving humans mercilessly, not having forgotten how we treated them. The worst-case scenario is they’ll evolve into basically more people. Either way, cow leather will be a faux pas.
Here are a few suggestions for soon-to-be popular items. Since suppliers will be difficult to find, we’re also including suggestions on how to manufacture some items, where to procure raw materials, and certain things to avoid. Don’t rely solely on our suggestions: remember, the apocalypse is your opportunity to shine, probably literally due to the radiation poisoning. Don’t let your failing body hold you back.
Gloves
There’s one thing we know for sure about our post-apocalyptic lifestyle. There’s going to be a lot of clawing through rubble. Whether for food, shelter, as a hobby, or because there’s nothing else to do, clawing through rubble is going to be mucho popular. What’s the problem with that? The problem is it’s going to play hell with people’s manicures, and, more generally, cause a lot of wear and tear on the hands and fingers. That’s where gloves come in. Gloves can be made from many materials for many purposes. Of course, any glove worth its salt post-apocalypse needs to be made from rubble-resistant material. Pre-apocalypse they were often made from warm threads like wool or durable leather. Of course, sheep and cattle will be difficult to find after the apocalypse due to stringent no-work-outside-of-marriage laws. However, it’s almost guaranteed that rats will continue to flourish. Rat fur is actually quite soft, comfortable, and, most importantly, durable. This is one area where mutations may work to your advantage. Be inventive with the unnatural colors that will accompany the monstrous genetic changes that rats will undergo. Chernobyl blue, Ground Zero green, and a modest red enhanced by a pulsating glow are sure to be popular for both spring and fall seasons. Of course, there won’t actually be any seasons, unless it’s something like the Season of Poisonous Winds, followed by the Season of the Dust Wolves. But you can probably work with that. Finally, rat skin can be processed much like leather. Best to stockpile the chemicals needed for processing now, such as urine.
Turtlenecks
Most people in the apocalypse are going to have scars due to the nature of their new, hellish lives. But covering up these reminders of warlord Timmy the Cruel’s punishments aren’t the only reason to wear turtlenecks. Considering the temperature drop that will surely come with the nuclear winter, turtlenecks are also going to be quite practical. Again, due to the scarcity of unmarried sheep able to provide wool, we recommend using alternative substances. For example, it’s a sure bet that turtles will be the size of cars, with multiple heads and necks ringing their shell. Practically made to order right there.
Accessories
Unfortunately, the majority of surviving humans will have been blinded by the flashes of exploding nuclear bombs, and those who weren’t really won’t want to see what’s left, so bright colors will be considered passe in the post-apocalypse. But no one ever said fashion was easy.
Finding dyes will be challenging, since most plantlife will either be extinct or predatory. The easiest color to find will be red, of course, and yellow, of the non-edible-snow-making variety. Black will be readily available from the Black Sludge Pits. Of course, these are toxic and frequented by the Black Sludge Monster, also known as Tony. Don’t let him get talking to you about his vacation to the Gray Sludge Pits while you’re collecting your Black Sludge. He never shuts up.
Open For Business
Once you’ve identified the post-apocalyptic consumer needs, and established a reliable supply chain (we recommend mutant labor, especially for the living fur mines), you’re ready to start retailing. Make the store inviting and comfortable, free from the blood-sucking rabbits and flesh-eating crabgrass found everywhere else. This in itself will be a big draw. Fortunately, the apocalypse will also simplify a lot of the decisions that bedeviled retailers pre-apocalypse. No need to worry about providing parking space, unless automobiles have become sentient. In that case, a grazing pasture out back will more than suffice. You won’t have to stock XL, XXL, or XXXL sizes of anything, since all your customers will have “the wasting disease.” You can capitalize on this by having sizes such as Starving and Extra Starving.
Once you’ve established a flagship store, you can expand into a chain with locations wherever the feeble remnants of humanity have settled to huddle in fear and despair.
Don’t Forget Advertising
This will present some challenges. “With stores north, south, east, and west of the Phosphorescent Crater of Suppurating Death” is a great tagline, but how do you make it effective? With no TV, radio, or newspapers, and with Kevin Costner running the postal system (why does it take so long for it to get where it’s going? By “it” we mean the mail, of course), reaching your target audience (any of the living still capable of movement) will require ingenuity and investment. The key here will be to use methods considered outdated that because of, well, circumstances, will once again be worthwhile. Billboards might be difficult to pull off, given that 99% of all forests will be charred wastelands, and the other 1% will harbor carnivorous tree lampreys and winged alligators. But sandwich boards are a good option. Mascots can handout leaflets and coupons, with the advantage that a costume will not be necessary. The idea here is to use your imagination, and possibly nightmares, to get the word out.
So when someone asks you “How are you going to survive the apocalypse?” you can tell them “I’m not going to survive it, I’m going to test drive it and thrive in it!” And then laugh maniacally while they dial 911, resting secure in the knowledge that someday soon, you’ll be the difference between these people’s nakedness, and their clothedness.
