The Haters Were Wrong: Lilly Pulitzer for Target Killed It
Despite the cries of outrage, the collaboration sold out in about a day. Because the very reasons some people hate the brand are the exact same reasons some people love it.
When the color of a dress not only most closely resembles an artificially colored tropical drink or a flamingo, but also has the booze and the birds embroidered on it, there is no middle road. You’re either all in on Lilly Pulitzer—zipping up the dress and pairing it with pearls—or you’re all out.
The brand’s divisiveness made headlines outside of the fashion world this January, when Target announced they were pairing up with the country club-y brand for a limited-edition collection. The mega-retailer made similar deals in past years, selling special lines of clothing designed with Missoni and Jason Wu.
If the Lilly Pulitzer brand itself puts people into camps, the collaboration with Target caused an all out war. The hashtag #LillyForTarget accompanied vitriolic tweets from people convinced that Lilly herself would roll over in her grave at the thought of her WASPy uniforms being marketed to the masses, as well as from those saying the brand was “basic’’ and terrible to begin with.
I spoke with brand experts in January, who said that regardless of how people felt about the pairing, the goods themselves would still sell out quickly, and there would likely be a black market for the clothes on eBay within days of the debut.
Model Camila Alves, from left, and actresses Kate Bosworth, Bella Thorne and Ellie Kemper attend the Lilly Pulitzer for Target launch event in NYC.
That story checked out. The clothes sold out in one day, both in stores and online, and they’re already being auctioned off. In fact, Target’s website strained under the volume of customers trying to snag a pink and green bikini or a lace, scallop-edged top. Target execs weren’t thrilled with the site’s performance, but they were thrilled with the result.
Megan Garber at The Atlantic recently wrote about why people hate Lilly Pulitzer. She says that the clothes represent exclusivity and a class division. A class division that comes not from hard work and American dreaming, but from birthright.
“Pulitzer’s clothes are, in this sense, the worst kind of basic. They promise class and community and the relief of conformity,’’ Garber writes.
Garber’s explanation for the hate the brand elicits is also the very reason certain people love it. Some of the women (and men) who wear Lilly—the ones who freaked out about the collaboration—do so because they want to project the image of belonging to an elite class. They want to send a message that they are in a separate social stratum. Which is exactly why they were so threatened by the thought of the plebes being able to pay around $30 for a Lilly for Target dress when they’d spend close to $200 for the real thing. If anyone can join the club, why bother?
The collaboration’s success, however, shows that there’s a market for mass-marketed exclusivity. Or maybe for very bright-colored clothing.
Some may hate the brand (a sentiment that is not outside the realm of making sense, from an aesthetic point of view). Others may hate the idea of the collaboration. But there are enough people in America devoted to tiny embroidered umbrellas in tiny embroidered cocktails at discounted prices to make both Lilly Pulitzer and Target a large amount of money.
Because unlike society ladies pretending they don’t care who they’re paired up with for the golf tournament, sales figures don’t lie.
To comment, please create a screen name in your profile
To comment, please verify your email address
Conversation
This discussion has ended. Please join elsewhere on Boston.com