Russian Mermaids
It was 2007. Starbucks finally reached Russia – and promptly turned into a status symbol.
One Starbucks shop for the entire country. To get there you’d battle through busy Moscow traffic, weave through a mall, join a serpent line, squeeze into a packed room to finally order a wondrous, hard-to-pronounce drink – all at the price of a decent dinner in a place that doesn’t use plastic forks.
The sound of a muted clunk as the drink touches the polished counter… There it is. Too hot or too cold, too sweet, too expensive. Mmm…
Cause Starbucks was more than just coffee. It was a symbol of status, of being ‘in’. We had coffee chains. But none of them were featured in paparazzi shots of Britney Spears or casually placed on Meryl Streep’s desk in ‘The Devil Wears Prada.’ Drinking Starbucks wasn’t just about enjoying a latte; it was about being seen enjoying it.
Soon, the iconic Starbucks cup with a mermaid logo became the hottest fashion trend in the country. Creamy white paper with a deep green circle symbolizing, I don’t know, the endless cycle of consumerism? Who cares! It’s just like in the movies! Social media were full of grinning fashionistas clutching their Venti like they just won an Oscar. ‘Look at me, I’m like Paris Hilton!’
Small town girls from rural Russia would get just the cups with the mermaid logo – and pass them from girlfriend to girlfriend to pose with. Clawing empty Starbucks cups and flashing borrowed Juicy Couture sweatpants, these small-town girls grinned just as brightly. ‘Look at me, I’m just like those bitches in Moscow’! I’m like one of those famous women in a gossip rag.’
A small-town girl with the Starbucks cup was like a little mermaid herself, not content in her own world, aching for something bigger, beautifuller, just beyond her grasp. She wasn’t reaching for the Starbucks, she was reaching for a dream, for a life that was just like in the movies in which she WAS Anne Hathaway. And maybe for a moment, perhaps when looking at her own photos with a green mermaid on a cup, she would feel the intoxicating euphoria of ‘making it’.
The sweet illusion. The drug that keeps the card reader ‘ping!’.