Oh, Lord ... and Taylor

On a gray and windy morning a week or so ago, two middle-aged male commuters—briefcases, newspapers, topcoats, sorry-looking hats—were walking down the platform at Princeton Junction, pausing every few steps to look at the advertising posters mounted along the railing. They passed, shaking their heads, and I heard one say, "It just ain't right," and then they both laughed.

The object of their strolling colloquy? The lineup of new Lord & Taylor ads that have seemingly taken over the station. The obvious centerpiece of the campaign, and the one that appeared first, is a large lush color photo featuring Lauren Hutton—ageless and blonde and gap-toothed, richly radiant (and radiantly rich)—seated on a large fancy couch surrounded by what are clearly meant to be her brood of four comely, coltish, equally blonde and radiant daughters and/or nieces along with one other comely, coltish young woman who, to judge by her dark skin, is neither daughter nor niece but is surely one of their exquisite, well-bred friends from Yale or Brown or Middlebury, down for the weekend to relax in white linen and read The New York Times on the couch.

There are several other ads in the series (all simply "lifestyle" photos with only the Lord & Taylor signature in the lower corner), each featuring one or more of the women, usually in the company of equally attractive young men (obviously not family; perhaps members of the lacrosse or polo team on a weekend road trip), and engaged in some manner of upscale leisure (running a catamaran through the surf, for instance, or enjoying tea on the beach).

No doubt any series of oversize photos of leggy young beauties in various forms of skimpy dress would have been enough to slow up those two guys last week. But I think what really gobsmacked them, what produced that rueful "just ain't right"—whether it registered with them or not—was the fantastic world of privilege on display. The gorgeous young women (and men) in the photos aren't enjoying some once-in-a-lifetime vacation getaway. They're just hanging out for the weekend at Mummy's, just living their lives—lives that naturally include surfside tea service and the quietude of a hammock.

Somehow it all seems a mockery—a hammockery—and a very poor advertising strategy, to confront potential customers so near-nakedly with the gulf between their quotidian existence and some other-worldly blend of oppulence and leisure. Maybe Lord and Taylor should consider photo-shopping a couple of tired-looking commuters onto the couch beside Ms. Hutton. Now that would be right.

TODAY'S SCORECARD
9:03, on time, window

TODAY'S TRAIN SONG
"Night Train" by Jimmy Forrest, and sung by James Brown.
--Hey, Sonny Liston skipped rope to it. That's good enough for me.

TODAY'S TRACKSIDE SIGNAGE
Ferrari

WORDS TO LIVE BY
"Sure, I sold the code and two pair of plans!" --Chico Marx, in Duck Soup