Why I Will Never Stop Loving Urban Outfitters

Heaven. Photo: @urbanoutfitters/Instagram

People have their morning routines: Orange juice, coffee, walk the dog, read the papes, watch Kathie Lee and Hoda. Mine involves Urban Outfitters.

Every single morning, before I get out of bed (which I purchased at Urban Outfitters), I pull out my phone and/or laptop and head to urbanoutfitters.com or the UO app. First, I go to the “new” apartment section, and then switch the filter to “new” so that the latest additions are at the top. Once I’ve scrolled through those, I check out the new women’s clothing, filling up my “shopping cart” as I go. Once I hit the items I saw the day before, I’m ready to start my day.

I’m constantly surprised by how many people can’t believe so many of my belongings were purchased at UO: My aforementioned bed, desk, end table, TV unit, book case, and front hall shelf all hail from Urbs, as have the prints and eyeball sconce hanging on the walls above said bed and desk. One is black and white drawing of two sloths carrying a surfboard while riding a tandem bicycle. It brings me endless amounts of joy.

Then there’s my bedspread and matching pillow shams, my round white shag rug, the macrame window hanging, the twinkle lights in my bedroom and living room, the decorative chimes and glass art hanging in my windows, the framed Catcher in the Rye print in my hallway, the elephant-shaped door mat, the task lamp in my living room, and the serape-esque throw blanket on my couch. Oh, and the bathroom: stripy Pendleton towels and an ocean-themed shower curtain round out my #UOHome. I take photos with my pink Fuji Instax camera and put them in mini glitter frames from Urban Outfitters, and listen to music on my mint-green bluetooth speaker, also picked up at UO. I live in an Urban Outfitters wonderland.

My actual living room.

My wardrobe is equally as Urbanized. From the slingback sandals I wore nine out of 10 days this spring and summer to my cotton skater dresses (flattering and didn’t even need to try them on first), to the slouchy ‘60s cap that’s getting me through the cold and the tee that’s getting me through dating in New York—retail therapy in its most literal form.

There was a brief moment in time when I was actually employed by Urban Outfitters. I had moved to Dublin, Ireland shortly after graduating college, and found out that the UO in Temple Bar was hiring. My group interview included a girl who claimed to shop at that location nearly every day, and here, I’d never stepped foot in the store. So instead, I said the first thing that came to mind: “I just moved here, and everything is new and a little scary—but when I walk into Urban Outfitters… I feel like I’m home.” (I got the job.)

That store was where I first discovered some of the bands and musicians that have gone on to become my favorites: Florence and the Machine, Phoenix, and this unfairly catchy song about riding a bus. It was in the same Urban Outfitters that I met my way-too-young-for-me eternal Irish crush, as well as a random American girl studying abroad in Italy, who I eventually went and visited in Florence. So, you could kind of say UO and I have a storied past. Sometimes, in modern-day, I’ll venture into the NYC stores just to pinch off some succulent leaves to propagate and add to my plant collection. Soon, I’ll be able to pop in for some pizza (!!!).

My sleeping situation.

Part of me understands why some of the population has an aversion to UO. It has a history of offending and upsetting various groups and people with its at-times controversial merchandise. It also has a president and CEO who, at one time, anyway, monetarily supported the political ambitions of Rick Santorum, who opposes gay and abortion rights. Then there’s the whole idea that the brand has capitalized on a sub-culture and turned it mainstream, selling low-quality items for exorbitant prices and stealing ideas from the “little people” who continue to struggling because they don’t have the big-money backing that UO has.

I get it. No set of six bobby pins should cost anywhere remotely close to $8 (plus tax). Nor should anyone take ideas without paying up (and Urban can certainly afford to).

But for someone like me—who enjoys looking at least halfway decent in public and living in a space that I’m not ashamed to have guests in, but isn’t overflowing with ca$hola—Urban Outfitters has been a savior. When I see a celeb wearing something I like that I can’t actually afford, UO often has a more cost-effective alternative. This button-down denim dress? Everyone at work thought it was Alexa Chung for AG. I don’t have the funds for my dream West Elm mid-century TV console, so I bought this one from UO for $900 cheaper. And my boho-style, mango wood platform bed makes me feel like I’m sleeping in some kind of tropical bungalow every night.

Well, when my heating comes on, anyway.

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