The douchebaggian tragedy of Hollister can be found in the little details: the fact that the store’s website refers to men and women as “Dudes” and “Betties,” respectively, that they encourage guys to wear yellow sweatpants with “CALI” plastered across the butt, and that the stores’ entrances are lined with tiki torches.
Back when I worked at Starbucks, one of my coworkers, who also worked part-time at Hollister, took me aside and told me he was leaving our store. “Why?” I asked.
“Hollister promoted me to shirtless greeter,” he said, beaming.
In the words of Forrest Gump, “That’s all I have to say about that.”