The Chronicle

Issue date: 3/29/07 Section: Columns
Last update: 3/29/07 at 9:31 AM EST

Sarah Ball

About three weeks ago, I was wandering around the yacht-cabin-like bowels of Rugby, the Franklin Street store also known as the mecca of gratingly WASPish attire. Immediately deemed sartorially unclean (thank you, ripped jeans), I escaped the notice of the gratingly WASPish salespeople, one of whom was instead turning her attention to a 50-something, blond-bobbed woman shopping for her daughter.

"There certainly are quite a few items on sale," said Anna Wintour's long lost American twin, rifling through Nantucket reds.

"Yes, well, we're closing on March 10," the salesgirl replied casually, stacking cashmere cable-knit crewnecks.

"What?!" cried the woman, stricken. "What ever shall I do this summer, when I need a seersucker blazer with silk-tie lining and pink skull-and-crossbones embroidered all over it? Surely, I shall perish!"

(…Actually, she didn't really say the last part. But I bet she would have, if the salesgirl hadn't promptly replied.)

"Leasing this building is pretty expensive, and we don't get enough traffic during the week. On the weekends, sure, but other times, not so much," the girl said.

I listened quietly to all of this. Two years ago, I covered Rugby's grand opening for this paper's arts and entertainment section. Now, I was bearing witness to its early departure-its very, very surprising early departure.

To retrogress for a second: Rugby was conceived of as the younger, hipper, more athletic son of luxury American sportswear company Polo Ralph Lauren. It does not have an online counterpart, and its stores-purposefully located only in college towns like Georgetown, Boston and Charlottesville-market a lifestyle just as tenaciously as they market their signature pique cotton. There are posters of sailing teams and worn badminton racquets; there are beat-up leather suitcases and vintage prep school patches everywhere. Exactly the vibe you'd expect, I suppose, from the design team selected to swath the officials at last summer's Wimbledon.

Everything about Rugby's vision and its execution pointed to success in the South. There are certainly more occasions for which seersucker and sundresses are appropriate in North Carolina than in Greenwich. And there's the small matter of all the masses of pearl-loving prepsters and conservative dressers walking around these parts. So despite the store's occasionally questionable wares-Grandma's floral sofa upholstery fashioned into cheek-baring mini-skirt, anyone?-the overall brand seemed a guaranteed fit for Chapel Hill.

Continued...

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