Look, Don’t Touch

Somewhere a decimal point has been misplaced. Somehow the numbers that are supposed to measure worth and value have lost meaning. Fantastic figures fly across the front pages daily--$40-billion computer wizards, $2-billion bombers, $30-million basketball guards. Over time these numbers run together, confuse. A corporation’s $25-million challenge grant for a music center sounds hefty, generous--at least for a few days, until the CEO of said corporation is dealt a one-time payday of $565 million.

Against this blurry backdrop, then, what to make of the $258 toothbrush?

It was on display at Gucci’s on Rodeo Drive. Understand, this toothbrush was not powered by batteries. It was not even equipped with one of those little rubber gum massagers. The handle, however, was made of sterling silver and handsomely curved. No doubt this was a stout device and, of course, it was from Gucci’s. For all I know about silver toothbrushes, maybe this one was priced to move.

“Do you ever sell any of these?” I asked the clerk.

“I haven’t, but others here have--especially around Christmas.”

“Well, do you think if I bought a 258-dollar toothbrush for my little boy, he might actually start brushing his teeth?”

*

*

The clerk did not laugh. The clerk did not smile. The clerk closed the case, locked it tight and--before I had a chance to inquire into the $850 dog collar or $150 golf tee--marched away in search of more likely customers. A first lesson had been learned: Wisecracks about conspicuous consumption don’t play well on Rodeo Drive.

Another point quickly absorbed by a stranger to Rodeo Drive is this:

They know.

They know who belongs, and they know who does not, and they know how to make those who do not belong know that they know. It doesn’t matter that fashion finally has caught up with those of us most comfortable in old corduroy and scuffed hiking boots, that so many Hollywood-types now dress like Humboldt lumberjacks. The clerks, the poker-faced security guards, the shoppers who do belong: They know.

“They kind of sniff you out,” is how my friend and travel guide Steve Fox explained it. “Pretty quickly they figure out you don’t belong. Pretty quickly they know you are not going to buy anything. And so they either ignore you or discreetly suggest that Wal-Mart might be a better place for you to do your shopping.”

Fifteen years ago Fox served as the West Coast business editor of the Associated Press. Every Christmas season he would make a pilgrimage to Beverly Hills and wander the boutiques, journalistically fingering the merchandise. His catalogs of overpriced baubles made for priceless reading, and they became a seasonal staple of many California business sections. And since there are few new ideas in newspapers, and since imitation is flattery, I found myself last Thursday following my friend’s footsteps.

*

*

After the Gucci’s debut, I ducked into Le Chateau and purchased a black Princess Diana baseball cap ($35). I calculated, foolishly, that the shopping bag might help me blend in better, a proof of purchasing power. The clerk had celebrity news to report: “You know,” she said, in a vaguely European accent, “La Toya was here this morning. And everything she wore was Versace. Versace shirt. Versace pants. Versace shoes. Versace everything.” Next door, at Versace . . .

Actually, clothes are not what catches the window-shopper’s eye on Rodeo Drive. Toys do. At one leather boutique, for example, there was a leather golf bag, bearing no price tag. I asked how much, a question that famously exposes the non-belonger here. “Six thousand, eight hundred and thirty-five,” the clerk said, sounding a bit bored. I liked the precision in that figure. I also admired the way she could say it without blinking.

Oh, there were more “affordable” items to be found up and down the street. For the kids, a $95 Jackie doll, a $944 Star Wars chess set. For Auntie Jane, the $179.95 self-cleaning cat box filler. And who would not want a little gadget that plugs into the automobile cigarette lighter and brews two cups (demitasse, of course) of espresso as you drive? (I got so excited by this one, I forgot to ask the price.)

In truth, it was a fun couple of hours. It can be entertaining, every so often, to see how the other 1% lives. That’s what Robin Leach knows, and the Thackerays and F. Scott Fitzgeralds knew. The crucial thing is to remember: You are from earth, and this is another planet. And when, in a rich land of too much hunger, a $258 toothbrush starts to seem anything other than obscene--it’s time to head for the door. They will be more than happy to show the way.