Does It Look Like I Work Here?

Imagine you’re shopping at a retail store. You’re having trouble finding the oven mitts and could use some assistance. You see a person there wearing a shirt emblazoned with the store logo and a name tag. Maybe they’re pulling stock forward on a shelf or picking up random items left in the wrong place. You walk up and ask them for help, assuming they work there. Only they don’t. You walk away confused wondering how you could have ever been so wrong.

We spoke with Retail Dreamz, an influencer in the retail cosplay community, to talk about how often this happens.

“Oh my god, like all the time,” says Dreamz. “I don’t know how many times I have to tell people that just because I’m in a store wearing that store’s uniform it doesn’t automatically mean I work there. Like how hard is that to understand?”

For those unfamiliar, retail cosplay is a growing trend on Instagram and TikTok where people dress up as customer service workers to act out the fantasy of working in retail. Sometimes it’s to take photos or video for social media, other times it's just for fun.

When we spoke to Retail Dreamz she was set up in a Best Buy, wearing their signature blue polo shirt complete with a name tag reading “Jennifer” (Dreamz’s Best Buy employee persona, or “empsona”). It didn’t take long for Dreamz’s point to be made as several people stopped to ask her questions about the store.

“See what I mean,” she says after a customer asked her about left-handed computer mice. “It’s like I’m not here to help you buddy, now get out of my shot!”

“It’s always like this,” says fellow cosplayer Pop’n’Shop, who is currently taking photos of Dreamz pretending to do stock checks on computer accessories. Pop’n is dressed in a Staples uniform for a photoshoot later today. “The worst part isn’t even them asking for help, it’s the insistence that we’re lying, that the idea of someone being in a store, wearing that store’s uniform, and not working is such a crazy idea that they refuse to believe it.”

“I’ve had managers called on me so many times,” adds Dreamz.

“Oh my god, for real,” laughs Pop’n. “I’ve been fired from more places than I’ve ever even worked at!”

While this may seem perfectly normal for people familiar with retail cosplay, outsiders may find the concept harder to grasp.

“It’s so confusing,” says customer Joan Ivey. “Why be here if you’re not going to help?”

“I don’t see how it’s my fault for thinking they work here,” says John Melton. “I’m not crazy, right? I feel like I’d be crazy to understand this.”

“So do they still sell left-handed mouses,” says Charles Meccay, “or is that something I have to order online now?”

Yeah, I don’t work here either.

This isn’t just a problem for professional retail cosplayers, either.

“I was heading to a costume party this past Halloween dressed as a Walmart employee,” says Peter Duhamel. “I had made my famous spinach and artichoke dip, but I forgot to get the extra-thick Triscuits, and I tell you, you need the extra-thicks, so I stopped at Walmart on the way to the party.”

You can probably guess what happened next.

“There weren’t any on the shelf,” Duhamel continues, “so I’m kind of digging around on the bottom shelf trying to see if they had some there. Anyway, while I’m down there, people keep asking me ‘where’s this?’ or ‘can you price check that?’ and I’m all like ‘hey, buddy, I don’t work here, I’m just trying to buy some Triscuits, duh!’.

“To add insult to injury,” adds Duhmel, “I had to listen to three different people bitch about self-checkout while I tried to ring myself out.”

Then there’s Sheila Bloome, an Ikea superfan, or Stän as they like to call themselves. She claims to have had this problem several times while shopping at her favorite Swedish furniture store.

“Oh, I love Ikea,” says Bloome. “I go for the meatballs, roll around on the beds, and look at all the cool, little gadgets. I love it so much I even made myself one of those bright yellow ‘Hej!’ shirts the employees are always wearing!”

And of course, this has led to issues.

“Oh, some days they can’t give me a moment's peace. The last time I was there I didn’t even get past the nordvikens before I had to drape a holmvi blanket over myself. I just wanna say ‘please, just let me shop!’,” she says, pretending to cry. “Also, do you have any idea how many people stop me just to complain about the walking? Who goes to Ikea and doesn't expect to have to walk?”

I mean, it is a lot of walking.

Marcus Nagy had a similarly harrowing incident while shopping.

“I accidentally wore a red shirt to Target one time,” says Nagy, “and this one guy asked me where the travel mugs were and I had to tell him ‘oh no, I don’t work here, it’s just a red shirt, haha’. Won’t make that mistake again!”

A truly upsetting experience.

So is there any kind of respite for people who just want to go into stores dressed like people who work there, whether they’re on the way to a costume party, a store superfan, or even a professional retail cosplayer? Retail Dreamz says “no”.

“It’s annoying for sure,” says Dreamz, “but it comes with the territory. People look at how you’re dressed and just make snap assumptions about you. It’s sad, but I’m not gonna stop.”

“Excuse me,” says a young man walking up, “but would you happen to know if you have Madame Web on Blu-Ray?”

Oh boy, here's another one….

“Oh, don't mind him,” says Dreamz. “That's just Francis. He's a customer role player. We coordinate sometimes.”

Before we departed, we asked Retail Dreamz if she’d ever consider making her fantasy a reality and taking an actual job at a retail store.

“Are you kidding me?” Dreamz scoffs at the question. “And actually have to deal with these people all day? Yeah, no thanks.”

Okay, that's fair.

So the next time you’re out shopping and need assistance from someone you believe to be a store associate, please be sure to ask if they work there first. It may seem obvious to you that they’re a store employee, but they just might be a retail cosplayer trying to express their artistic persona.