I Checked Row’s Sample Sale – and Met Row Sitters Paid to Wait

Gigi Principe had been in line for more than nine hours when I spoke to her. She was in first place at what might be the toughest door in New York this week: The Row sample sale.

But Principe hadn’t planned on buying the Mary-Kate and Ashley Olsen brand for herself: She said it was way too expensive, even with the sale’s 75 percent discount. She is one of several patient line sitters hired.

With its $550 white cotton T-shirts, $2,700 scarves and $6,000 no-tag, no-tag bags, The Row embodies the “quiet luxury” trend that has dominated the high-end fashion industry for years.

On Thursday morning, I entered the black hole of The Row cult — in other words, the sample sale queue. Some sip coffee or unwrapped bagels; others read on folding chairs; a woman was sitting upright on the sidewalk, typing on her computer.

The first day of the public sale began at 10 a.m. Wednesday, and Principe, 26, said she had been waiting in line since 7 p.m. the day before. As an assistant for the Same Ole Line Dudes company, she was paid to wait for everything from busy restaurants to legal trials to Berkshire Hathaway’s annual shareholder meeting.

Robert Samuel, 50, launched Same Ole Line Dudes in 2012 and described The Row’s event as “the Super Bowl of all sample sales.” It was full with 61 reservations on Wednesday and 35 on Thursday. Customers pay guards $25 an hour, plus an additional $15 if they want someone in line before 7 a.m., plus a fee for inclement weather or holidays.

By my calculations, the person who hired Same Ole Line Dudes to show up at 7 p.m. Tuesday night would have paid $365 before lining up around 9 a.m. to enter the sale.

Principe said the guards look out for each other, coordinating bathroom breaks and food runs. When signs suddenly appeared Wednesday evening prohibiting tents and chairs in line, the first few servers collectively decided to just set up on the other side of the sidewalk and move to the correct area, closer to opening.

The Row hopefuls aren’t just paying for online babysitters. A personal shopper told me she picked up five people on Wednesday and five on Thursday, including an Australian customer. She showed me a receipt for $1,619 for three pairs of shoes and a coat, which would have cost nearly $6,500 retail. These Australian customers pay the fees for its concierge service, shipping costs and rates, which hasn’t seemed to detract from the international appetite for The Row’s simple silhouettes and neutral tones.

“They have a cult following. People really want quiet luxury,” she said. “They love The Row because it’s really well done, but there are no logos. But people who know know what it is.”

Quiet luxury is alive and well

The luxury sector is facing a “significant slowdown” this year, according to McKinsey State of Luxury Reportjust like the fashion industry as a whole. Customers are increasingly interested in luxury experiences rather than items, according to the report. However, on 18th Street in Manhattan, I noticed that the thirst for clothes straight out of the scenes of “Succession” is still very present, especially as wealthy consumers help fuel the economy.

Three women in their 30s who hired one of Samuel’s employees — “I feel like everyone knows a line guy,” they told me — said they appreciated the longevity of the items. Two of them said they gave themselves a shopping budget of $5,000, and one of them took out her phone to start filming for a TikTok that she said she would probably never do.

Whether or not she has time to edit her post, social media is full of videos of The Row worth tens of thousands of dollars and details of what goes on inside the sale (phones are recorded, bags are quite rare, changing rooms are communal).

The woman who hired a line attendant Tuesday night at 7 p.m. was back Thursday, but she paid someone to wait starting at 4 a.m. the second day. She requested anonymity because she had taken the day off for the event. Her voice grew calmer when I asked her how much her three bags and two coats from the first day cost, a sheepish smile appearing as she politely refused to share.

“A lot,” said the 37-year-old, adding that it was definitely worth it.

Betul Thena, 38, queued at 9:20 a.m. and said she became “an avid follower of the brand” after attending The Row’s sample sale four years ago. Eva Dayton, who works in luxury second-hand fashion, arrived at 7:45 a.m., but didn’t mind what she thought would be about a three-hour wait.

I left the sale before the doors officially opened, at 9 a.m., and as the person who hired Principe walked by to snag his coveted spot right across the street.

“The public is divided between ‘These people are crazy’ and ‘What a crazy thing,'” the woman who was back for a second day told me. “So you just pick your line and stick to it.”