If I were a bunny, where would I shop?

There is a store I pass every now and then that I have never once entered, and yet there is something about this particular shop that makes me slow down as I pass just to try and catch a glimpse of the items being displayed inside and more importantly, the people who buy them.

It's the playboy store.
Which, sadly does not retail tall, dark, handsome and financially affluent men but instead specializes in leopard print evening gowns, rhinestone everything and tennis skirt/knee sock combos.

While I'm no stranger to watching that trashtastic reality show featuring Hugh Hefner's girlfriends who are not his girlfriends anymore, I can´t say that I have ever, not even once while watching it thought to myself "Gee, that Holly Madison really is the epitome of style, now if only there was a way I could dress like her... say a store... a store that sold "girls of the playboy mansion" type things..."
No, I have never had that thought. Except for now, and even then it is only to make it quite obvious that I wouldn't, would not, produce such a thought.
Which is why it's so intriguing that that store is there. Because that has to mean that somewhere, someone is in fact thinking this, though perhaps phrased differently.

I'm not judging (...) I just want to know who these people are, where they're from, where they're planning to wear that pink spandex dress and if they, by any chance are the same people who when I worked at French Connection used to buy matching mother-daughter tops with a rhinestone embellished "fcuk" splayed across the chest. And if so, it's pronounced "effseeyoukay" and not "fuh-kawk". So stop saying that.
Please.