Located past the fitting room like our previous Banana Republic review, the sibling company “Old Navy” doesn’t care if you sneak in by yourself. Gap, Inc., designed Old Navy like the ratty younger brother who perpetually lives in the mental state of freshman year at college. That way, if Banana’s upscale image turns you off, the company still gets your money in the end. However, Old Navy settles into the neighborhood of SoHo comfortably and embraces the space it occupies by leaving it looking like a warehouse.

Their acceptance of the industrial look would benefit them quite well in their facilities, had they gone all the way with it. But only going halfway with the Bohemian look is the same as when an uptown banker tries to come down to this neighborhood to “pick up artsy chicks”–all the cool kids see right through it. Sorry, but the INC is still the biggest part of Gap, Inc. The bathroom is lit brightly by caged, industrial fixtures. The top third of the wall is left as exposed brick to “legitimize” things, and the floor has a brushed concrete look with half a coat of paint on it. But the stalls, gray as they are, look a little too polished for the image they were going for. Also, there is an odd smell lingering in the air, something that will never be cool no matter how uncool it is. Overall you get the sense that they could have done much more to make it “look the part.”

Rating: 6.5

Old Navy—which is not old, naval-themed nor contains only navy blue clothing—is the third chain owned by Gap, Inc., the other two being Gap and Banana Republic. It has always presented itself as more casual than Banana Republic and less sterile than Gap while remaining the most affordable of the three clothing lines. Gap Inc treats this as its “street store,” and the inside feels like you’re shopping in a warehouse down by the docks. Of course, this is no insult to warehouses nor docks (in fact we have friends that live in warehouses and docks—honest!). The shabby casual culture is certainly popular enough that the store does very well for itself.

The restrooms at this branch not only failed to match the look of the store but also threw a mortal chill down our spines. The mind behind the design of this branch’s bathroom runs parallel to a serial killer’s. The tiny hexagonal floor tiles were off-white, their borders filled with decades of grime. A pale yellow brick motif ran across the lower half of the walls, and the stall doors were made from grated metal, giving it that industrial look. But the true terror was the toilet. As if most toddlers aren’t scared enough of the toilet’s mouth-shaped monstrous visage, the pipe coming out the back of this toilet resembles a steel anaconda writhing up towards the ceiling and will traumatize even some 30-year-olds (especially those who have never held a full-time job). A chain hangs ominously from the reptilian display, perhaps pointing upward to where the steel anaconda hung itself (is that possible?). Perhaps fear is the reason these toilets look like they’ve never been flushed before. A garbage can stands in front of a urinal; apparently, an “out of order” sign was too subtle so they had to put a metal bouncer in front of it. If Mecha-Godzilla has a torture chamber, this is where he goes to get inspired.

Rating: 4.5