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Twice a year, on a lonely street in Tribeca, on the first floor and in the basement of a humble hipster-preppy boutique, a mystical department store assembles. It has labels like Gryson, Gilded Age, Matt Bernson, and Sophomore, and more button-down shirts than a person could ever try on, and it lasts only four days, disappearing as suddenly as it came. It is the Steven Alan sample sale. It begins today at 8:30am. And as always, we're on hand to document the magic.
7:47am: There's already a line of about eight people, mostly guys. I see three men in fitted button-downs, one in denim harem pants.
7:56am: The store dog has arrived.
7:58am: Store employees are going in now to get ready. Meanwhile, the line is growing steadily. There are six more people behind me.
8:00am: I recognize Harem Pants! He was first in line last time. Wearing a different outfit, of course. Twenty-one people are now in line.
8:14am: This is a really nice neighborhood to wait in line in. Just watched a little girl get into a Mercedes on her way to a tennis lesson.
8:16am Harem Pants's girlfriend just showed up, which is exactly what happened last time—he gets here early and waits for her. In addition to those pants, he's wearing a velvet blazer, white low-top Chucks, and a little cap. The girlfriend is classically dressed (nice coat, navy tights, flats) and incredibly beautiful. They must just really love Steven Alan.
Our operative's adventures inside the sale continue here