Losing My Shopgirl Mind at Zitomer

What I thought and what I bought

I had lived in New York City for 4,287 days before I walked through the gleaming doors of Zitomer for the first time last month.

That is 4,286 days too many.

My trip through this three-storied wonderland has played on loop in my head since. Thinking about its perfect displays of pantyhose and pouches and pill cases. Wondering how it is that I hadn’t gotten there sooner (although it seems I am not the only one!). Desperately wishing I lived on the Upper East Side just so that I could pop into the place for every little random shopping need.

Zitomer is a landmarked family-owned and operated store, originally established in 1950 as a pharmacy. Per their site:

To one of our neighbors, we are a daily destination where she can come to drop off a prescription, try a new mascara, replace her cosmetic brushes, grab 12 pairs of her favorite stockings, select a hostess or a baby gift (have it gift wrapped and sent), treat her child to a toy, treat herself to a fabulous pair of earrings on the way out and have it all charged to her house charge account and delivered, too.

What they’ve just described is a kind of old-fashioned fantasy: Mundane consumerist errands, made absolutely glamorous. At Zitomer, that fantasy becomes real. You walk in here, and you’re lightyears away from (or really, behind) the world of one-click purchases. You’re in analog shopping heaven.

And in this heaven, there is so much product. Good product. Brilliantly merchandised product.

One thing I learned early on in my (short-lived) J.Crew merchandising career: breadth and depth of product assortment are equally important. You want to present customers with both a range of products, and within that range, many, many options to choose from. Zitomer is a masterclass in both.

Perhaps the department that best exemplifies this breadth is the “hosiery and lingerie” area, which is really an Upper East Side way of saying: sexy stuff. We’ve got everything from robes and shapeware to slippers and cheeky pillows to vibrators and a rainbow display of Cosabella thongs. (Remember Cosabella thongs? I had forgotten about them, and then this display had me reeling with the teenage memory of purchasing a periwinkle one at Fred Segal in LA.)

These slippers caught my eye only after a chic French shopper requested a pair in her size. Then I had to will myself to walk away from them.

I first heard about Zitomer from my mom — who doesn’t live in New York City — but who had read about it and then promptly ordered me a French-made headband that was also a favorite of Carolyn Bessette-Kennedy’s.

And while it’s great that much of Zitomer’s inventory is now available to shop online, nothing can compare to the experience of seeing this headband section IRL. Every kind of headband you could ever imagine. Tortoiseshell. Satin. Velvet. Leather. Braided. Corded. Knotted. Bedazzled. All stacked in perfect towers just waiting to be tried on.

Next to those headbands, a dizzying display of other accessories. Hundreds and hundreds of clips, barrettes, bows, bobby pins, and every other kind of hair trinket you could ever dream up.

Having an amazing assortment is one thing — showcasing it properly is another. At Zitomer, the visuals are immaculate. Everything is in its rightful place. Every label is faced out. The abundance of options is so incredibly satisfying, so utterly non-chaotic, only because of these meticulously-kept shelves and displays.

I wear tights, on average, maybe twice a year. And yet suddenly, I felt compelled to buy all of the tights.

But what impressed and surprised me most is how Zitomer plays the ultimate retail trick — convincing me at every turn that here was yet another thing I didn’t know how much I needed.

One of each, please.

Here we are in the travel section, for example. I don’t have any tropical getaways coming up, and yet this spread of toiletry bags, Havaianas, mini-bottles, and Baggus suddenly made me feel like I would have my life more figured out if I were the kind of person who had all of these things at home just waiting for me, perfectly merchandised, and ready for my next vacation.

Zitomer doesn’t play any music, at least not that I can remember. Instead, the soundtrack is the constantly-ringing phones, promptly answered by staff who seem genuinely proud to be working at this institution (who wouldn’t be?!).

I hung out near one staffer, listening to her pick up endless calls, referring to customers on the line by name, already knowing that they needed a refill or to be transferred to another section of the store. It felt like true small-town shit, in a three-storied pharmacy-slash-department-store that could also somehow only exist in New York City.

All in all, I spent about an hour in Zitomer, promising myself I’d be back soon to find more things I absolutely do not need. In the meantime, I present to you my first Zitomer haul — here’s what I brought home with me:

In the end, I couldn’t resist the call of Cosabella — in hot red-orange, no less!

I’m trying to diversify my hair accessorizing, so I went for these chic little tortoiseshell clippies.

The ultimate pharmacy essential: hair ties. I’m very particular about mine — I need something strong, but also something that will not mess with my curly wash schedule. These are ideal.

As an Eye Mask Person, the Palm Beach Old Lady style of this one was too good to resist.

I’ll be back to Zitomer as soon as possible. Who’s coming with me???