AGAINST THE GRAIN

Inhabit The Other Store profits from a design that deliberately goes counter to retail common-sense


It appears that the designer of Inhabit The Other Store picked up a retail design bible and decided to go against everything in it. And for that masterstroke the upscale boutique on the second level of the Mandarin Gallery is at once fresh, witty, and given the type of clients that the original store draws to its Palais Renaissance precinct, highly appropriate.

The corner unit is obscured partly by its neighbour and partly by a pillar – a dire situation that calls for all manners of bells and whistles to extenuate. One is rewarded with a prospect of two small apertures on a dark timber wall instead of cheery, gaping show windows enthusiastically filled with this season’s merchandise. Don’t even look for mega-watt floodlights trained on a platoon of mannequins or a marquee spelled out in neon – the store’s name appears in white letters above a list of brands and again carved on a wall by the entrance.

But wait. The angled entrance suddenly flashes a view of the interior. You see a framed art on a wall and a mannequin clad in a long jersey dress seemingly in conversation with someone you can’t see. Within the darkened space a white canted structure glimmers, a light beam shoots out from a brown box towards the ceiling, and more dark timber strips arranged in herringbone pattern tie up the randomness. A familiar club music track is playing. You’re hooked.

There’s no denying the voyeuristic pleasure you derive from such chance encounter. And when you’re drawn inside, your eyes immediately adjust to the darkness, picking out a group of chairs huddled in a circle, wall recesses filled with clothes hanging from a rack, niches stacked with jeans, a cashier’s counter with a display of small accessories. Cool artworks, such as the ones you would hang in your own pad, share wall space with a singular cocktail dress on a hanger or a wrap on a peg. You get it: art to wear.

All Louboutin-padded footsteps lead to Inhabit and The Other Store’s opening is unsurprising given its broadening clientele. It has been clothing seriously fashionable women – and, increasingly, men – who have developed a taste for cult brands of rare, artisanal apparel and accessories. Its rise in the collective consciousness of the fashion set is uncanny, having survived and grown mostly by word of mouth endorsements.

The present space reflects the ethos of the company: intimate and sophisticated and yet never off-putting. This is a place where like-minded clients hang out as they try on clothes and accessories or discuss the minutiae of certain labels. In other words, it is a cross between an exclusive club and a home – the antithesis of a McMall outlet where a hundred pairs of hands go through thousands of minutely differentiated products.

The dark timbre sets a sophisticated tone; its herringbone pattern, repeated on walls, floor and fixtures, is a double play on both clothing and handcrafting. Wooden cubes become display tables and light boxes – among the original touches in the store. On it may be a vitrine displaying a collection of accessories arranged like surgical tools, or a metal-beaded blouse picked out by a soft-glow of a pin light. On it as well is a free-form light chute from which a beam of mottled light partially filtered by gobo is directed at the ceiling.

Three dressing rooms are suspended from the ceiling and tubes stuck on their walls provide a two-way peek – an arthouse-worthy bit that explores the dichotomy of what is inside and outside. A large mirror fixed on the outside wall, echoing what is inside, extends this conceptual riddle.

Although illumination is evenly and judiciously applied, the white ceiling helps distribute them. Its colour also alleviates the space’s lack of height and provides a balance to the otherwise sombre, if sensual, interior.
In the midst of such leisureliness, albeit a manufactured one, retail does become a form of therapy. You feel wise and deliberate about your purchases, making it easy to drop a mint on a bauble.