The Louis Vuitton Diaries Pt.1

A sizzling hot serialized fashion horror novella

Art by Quentin Deronzier

(The following diary entries of Angel Simmons (age 29) were found on a corrupted hard drive. Our team of engineers recovered as many entries as possible. Keep in mind, there may be missing sections, glitches, and patches of text. We’ve gathered these together to the best of our ability and edited them into a roughly sequential narrative below.)

Jan 19, 2023

My therapist told me I should keep a diary or journal. They’re pretty much the same thing. Women are supposed to keep diaries while men are supposed to keep journals. Who cares about played out gender restrictions these days? I’m going with diary. No one’s ever going to see this anyway.

I started my first day working security at the Louis Vuitton store inside the Westfield Topanga mall today. Pretty good gig for $30 an hour, but I was bored out of my mind for eight hours.

I lucked out because I misplaced my social security card during the interview process for Dominion Security and the recruiter had to check in with another manager about alternative forms of identification. He came out of his office and offered me the job on the spot. If I had my card, I’d be in Calabasas making $22 an hour at some women’s luxury store.

Shoutout to fate.

This guy Kelby showed me the ropes. He’s 6 ft. 6 maybe 215 lbs pounds, clean cut with a slight southern twang in his speech. Cool people.

We have to take photos on a “loss prevention” iPad every morning, document inventory once every hour, and make sure people aren’t stealing everything in sight.

“Sunglasses and belts are the items you have to keep your eye on. People tend to steal these the most. They’ll throw shoes into their shopping bags too if no one’s looking.

“How often does it happen? Stealing…”

“I don’t know, but it’s almost inevitable. It happens though. We’re only human,” He holds up a pair women’s sunglasses with orange mirror lenses and a pink injected nylon frame. “See this white bulky sensor on the side… slides off real easy like.”

“Ah okay.”

“People try to steal jewelry too. The earrings and the bracelets are out in the open so keep your eye on those. You’d be surprised how much this shit costs.”

“Roger that, so if I see someone stealing, what do I do?”

“You read the manual right?”

“Yeah, front to back.”

“Do what the manual says. Don’t chase anyone out of the store, don’t put your hands on anyone unless they throw hands first. Our job is to de-escalate any situations that arise. If you suspect someone is stealing, walk up to them and ask if they need help from a sales associate or ask if they checked in with the concierge up front. They usually chill out real quick or dip out the store.”

“Got it.”

“Good. Let me know if you have any other questions.”

“Alright. Thanks for the help, man.”

“Anytime.”

Jan. 23, 2023

Today was decent. I did a patrol around the store, looping around shelves of purses and luggage and made my way into the women’s shoe section. I posted up next to a plant, trying my best to blend into the background.

One of the managers with bug eyes, black bangs, and thick makeup was helping a customer and she looked over at me and whispered something. I had no idea what the hell she was saying so I hovered around in case something went down. She nodded back at me when the customer wasn’t looking.

She whispered again while the customer was trying on a pair of shoes. This time I could actually hear her.

“Have you seen him?”

I scrunched up my face in confusion. Who exactly is him? I didn’t see a man accompany the woman into the store.

Was she telling me to keep an eye on this woman? Nothing fishy seemed to be going down and she seemed clean and well-put together. I waited until the woman bought the shoes and left the store to speak to the manager.

“Hey what were you whispering back there? I couldn’t hear you.”

“What are you talking about?”

I was confused. Was she serious or was she playing dumb? Was this an elaborate set-up?

“In the shoe section, you whispered something.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“When you were helping that customer out.”

“What customer? What did they look like?”

What the fuck was going on? Was I in the twilight zone or something? I was sober, grounded, and my mind was clear. Maybe this was a prank.

“Never mind. This is my first day.”

“Oh okay. Well, welcome to the store. My name’s Kylie. I hope you’re getting settled in. Please let me know if you have any questions.”

This situation stressed me out and gave me a surge of anxiety. I didn’t like the way this woman made me feel. I’ll try my best to steer clear of her in the future and keep things short and sweet.

She isn’t going to get me caught up. Not this early in the game.

Jan. 24, 2023

My feet hurt so damn much and my lower back is killing me. I have to start going back to the chiropractor and maybe I should consider getting some massages. I just have to wait until my first full check comes in. I have to think about this because standing on my feet will eventually take a major toll on my body. My recovery isn’t what it used to be.

Self-care is important or at least that’s what my therapist tells me. I never have taken care of myself too much or invested compassion and comfort into my routine. I have a tendency of sacrificing myself for others especially women. Not sure why that is. I have to work on this moving forward.

Back to self-care though. It does seem like a good idea. If I put my loose plan into action, it’ll make my work experience better as a whole.

And I have to stay on top of my haircuts. My beard and my hair grow at a fast rate. I need to go to the barbershop every two weeks so I don’t hear any crap from my bosses or the managers.

The other security guards are pretty clean-cut so I can’t be looking crazy in comparison.

I am thankful to have a solid paying job though. Working construction and seasonal jobs just hasn’t been cutting. I’m tired of skipping meals and scraping by. This will give me a sense of financial security that I’ve been craving and I can finally build substantial savings overtime.

Jan. 25, 2023

I watched a store associate add new items to the men's section. He had a thick head of black hair and a wolf tat on the back of his neck.

“Hey these changes look good.” I always believed in giving people compliments. You never know who needs to hear em.

“Thank you.” The man put his hands together and bowed. “It’s a lot of work, but worth it.”

“We got a new mannequin?” I said pointing to a tall mannequin with slick braids, hair on its chin, blank eyes wearing a leather coat, a black tee, brown pants, and a Navy blue reversible bucket hat. He was dripped out.

“Yeah, this is Bloody Osiris,” he patted the mannequin’s shoulder. “One of Virgil’s muses.”

“You’re kidding. That was really one of Virgil’s muses?”

“Yeah, him along with Omari here who was his first.” Omari was the mannequin standing next to Bloody with a crazy amount of hair.

“That’s pretty cool.”

“I know right? These were 3-D printed and I was there to see it.”

“Wow. No wonder they’re so realistic.”

“Well I gotta get going. Just make you take care of Bloody. He’s special.”

What did that mean? Special? And what did Virgil see in Bloody that inspired him to design such dope clothes when he was alive?

Jan. 26, 2023

Not much to report today. Lots of staring off into the distance and trying to keep my mind occupied. A man with colorful shoes and a bald head brought his curly-haired son with him to browse the men’s section.

I wasn’t paying them too much attention until I noticed the firmness in the father’s voice, commanding his son to say something.

“Look at me, look at me.”

The son looks at his father through teary eyes. His dad crouches down to eye-level.

“Repeat after me, I’m a young man and young men don’t cry.”

The young boy maybe 6-7 years old fumbles over his words while he attempts regain his composure. “I’m a young man…”

“Almost. Say I’m a young man and young men don’t cry.”

“…young men don’t cry.”

“Go to the mirror over there and say I’m a young man and young men don’t cry.”

The son waddles over to the full-length mirror next to the sunglasses and repeats the words.

“I’m a young man and young men don’t cry.”

I couldn’t believe this shit. This was the reason why I was in therapy and struggle to process my own emotions in real-time. I saw fragments of my own father in that man. Old school values that form a mask of toxic masculinity.

My dad served 12 years in the Air Force and told me to stop being a pussy anytime I showed any signs of emotions or feelings. Tears would equal an ass whooping with his leather belt followed by a stream of verbal and emotional abuse.

I felt bad for that kid in Louis Vuitton. Maybe he’d be well off material-wise, but damn if this isn’t setting a terrible precedent for his concept of manhood and emotional processing.

Jan. 30, 2023

People think they know everything. Rich customers walk inside the store asking if an imaginary item is coming out in the next season’s drop. When told no, their faces scrunch up as if the fashion designers are slow.

“If they put this shoe out in monogram it would sell out. I promise you.”

The sales advisor nods and fakes a laugh, hoping it sounds authentic.

The customer continues asserting their absurd claims.

“I should be in charge of the spring/summer season. Louis would make millions. I’m telling you.”

“Oh yeah, that’s a good idea.”

A man came in that same day asking if lime colored shoes would be coming out in the future. He wanted it to match the garish lime colored sweater with blue monogram print hanging off the rack in the men’s section.

When told no, he looked confused and astonished.

I hope I don’t act like this…

Jan. 31, 2023

A woman came into the store today with a target shopping card. Bright red. Easy to spot. I’ve never seen such a weird clash of luxury and middle class.

The woman’s son lounged in the carriage surrounded by a mass of puffy winter coats.

Everyone looked at the display with confusion.

“Are people even allowed to leave Target with a cart and stroll around the mall like that?”

“Naw, it’s weird,” Kelby said.

“It doesn’t make sense. My brain feels like it’s glitching.”

“Where’s mall security when you need them?”

Feb. 1, 2023

I finally got a haircut today and it looks good. However, my barber Jesus wasn’t there. Instead, I had to get his protege Albert to cut my hair. He was a younger Mexican guy with good skin, talkative, and tried his best to get make a lasting impression.

I showed him a photo of me from NYC when my hair was curly with tapered sideburns. Peak hair. He nodded and said he could do that. That’s what they all said.

He cut my hair while Post Malone played in the background on Youtube. Singing high notes completely off-key and not giving a fuck who heard.

“Let’s try something new. “

“Like what?”

“I want to fade in the sides of your beard and add some black pigment to the patches. It’ll look badass.”

“I don’t know man, you’re sure it won’t look crazy?”

“No, it won’t look crazy. I’ve done this a bunch of times. Everyone who has sat in this chair loves it.”

“Ok, why not?”

I closed my eyes as I felt a brush stroking my chin, wet liquid seeping into my beard.

“All done.”

“What do you think?”

“Looks great.”

I looked in the mirror and my beard looked thicker, fuller. It looked a lot better than it usually did. Maybe I should start taking minoxidil. I could probably pull more girls in LA with my beard running at 100%.

“How long does it last?”

“Three to four days as long as you don’t wash your beard.”

Only three to four days was aggravating. I began feeling like a fraud or a fake. I wondered if this is how Lebron James and Tory Lanez felt about their hairlines. But then again they have millions and could hire someone to apply it every week if need be.

Never mind, they have hair implants. Forgot about that. Not the same thing at all. Maybe I should just chill out and see what happens.

Feb. 2, 2023

I wondered if people noticed my beard at. If they noticed something different, something strange. I can’t shake that feeling of being a fraud. I feel like it’s painted all over my face.

What’s going to happen when the pigment washes out completely. I mean part of it faded as I slept. Still, no one magically loses fullness in their beard overnight unless they’re on drugs or they’re old.

I did get a few compliments on my hair in general, which made me feel good. It just isn’t the same. Is this a deep seated insecurity I’ve been unaware of? Life’s stressful, man.

Feb. 6, 2023

When did Fear of God become a poppin brand? Maybe since COVID, I’ve been out of the loop and I haven’t been going out enough. This trend completely zoomed by my radar.

Every single day a person strolls inside the store with a Fear of God Essentials sweatshirt or hoody. It’s so strange to me.

Other fashion correlations I’ve noticed…people who shop at the Lego store Gucci tend to love Louis Vuitton. Fendi fiends tend to walk by along with Versace customers. Once in a blue moon, you’ll see someone with Balenciaga shoes come in or Balmain shirt. I’m still haven’t seen any Hermes people at all, but I’m still gathering data.

I’ll report back in time.

Feb. 7, 2023

“Have you noticed something weird about the store since you started working here?” Bella asked me.

“No, nothing too crazy. Should I be worried?”

“Maybe it’s best if you don’t know.” She folded an oversized blue sweatshirt.

“Hold on a sec, you can’t do me like that. Set me up for something juicy and then pull the plug.”

Bella looked around the store, which was desolate and her co-workers were up front on their cellphones. “You didn’t hear it from me, but someone was brutally murdered here after we moved locations. We used to be next to the Bath and Bodyworks, but corporate thought this would be bring more revenue in.”

“You’re lying. This place is too clean and too high-end for that to happen.”

“You got a gun on your waist?”

“No,” I said, feeling the waistline of my black cargo pants as if a gun would magically materialize out of thin air.

“Exactly. So shut up and listen. Security wouldn’t be able to do a damn thing and you’re aren’t allowed to put your hands on anyone anyway.”

I nodded, knowing she had her narrative hooks deep into me. I needed to hear more.

“Rumor has it, an ex fashion designer who did stints for most luxury brands was betrayed and black-balled in the industry. She murdered one of the managers back in the men’s dressing rooms. Slit his throat and gouged out his eyes.”

“Wow, I’m going to google this shit when I go on break.”

“You won’t be able to find any official news stories. You’ll only find reddit threads and conspiracy theorists arguing about the identity of the murderer. Allegedly, some bigwigs at Louis pulled some strings and got the story pulled before it could make it online and any other mentions of it was scrubbed clean from the Internet.”

“That’s wild. You think it’s true?”

“Yeah, it’s true. Weird shit happens, especially after closing. You’ll hear strange sounds, lights will flicker, you’ll notice things have been moved around, and don’t get me started on the mannequins.”

“Did they see who it was on the cameras?”

“Yes and no. That’s another spooky ass thing. The killer was a woman. She was described as tall, thin, wispy and she had this multi-colored “veil” covering her head and her face. It had the LV symbols along with the four-petaled monogram flowers.”

“Were you working here at the time?”

“No, I was part of the new team hired after the incident went down. Many people couldn’t handle it psychologically and resigned while others were let go. But for some reason, they kept one of the managers who witnessed the event - Kylie. I think it’s fucked up or maybe she needs the money. I think that’s why she acts kinda weird from time to time. Like she traumatized from the event. I don’t blame her, but still…”

Right then Kylie stepped out from a mirrored wall and my heart punched my chest and I wondered if somehow she was eavesdropping on the conversation. That was impossible though. You couldn't hear the voices from the backroom let alone the music playing overhead.

She seemed normal with her stoic face, bug eyes looking around, black bangs in perfect condition, and lip gloss glimmering underneath the fluorescent lights.

“Bella, can you help me with women’s shoes? I need you to look at the SKUs and make sure they match up to the actual shoe…”

They walked over to the women’s shoes on the other size of the store and I felt like I could breathe again. Ever since then, I looked at her differently. It was as if the manager contained some great secret within her, something hidden beneath the surface of her perfectly manicured nails, gleaming white teeth, and firm voice, something desperate, begging to rise up from the depths and scream out everything she knew.

(To be continued two weeks from now…)