I went to the mall today. It occurs to me that I used to really like going to the mall, but it also occurs to me that my having affection for the mall was during my adolescent years. I think any fondness I had must have died at the end of adolescence along with my penchant for writing "shocking" sacrilegious poetry, and my dreams of marrying a singer from a grunge rock band. The reason for my trek into the bowels of consumerism was a visit to an eyeglass retailer called The Only Store Within a 15-Mile Radius of You That Didn't Give You a Hard Time About Your Insurance Company's Vision Coverage When You Phoned. My vision coverage works like this: If I get frames that have a retail cost of $150 or less, I get them for 50% off. However, if they're more than $150 retail, the discount plummets to 30%. The saleswoman at the store, who was actually quite wonderful in that she was friendly and didn't try to sell me something I didn't need (there was no "for only $50 more, we'll apply a special coating to your frames that wards off evil gypsy spirits" or anything), showed me the "under $150" selection of frames. This consisted primarily of about 700 pairs of frames from the "Your Great-Aunt" collection, and about 5 pairs of frames from the "Something You Might Actually Consider Wearing On Your Face" collection. I found a pair I rather liked ($99 retail - whee-hoo!) and coughed up $95 for the frames, lenses, and scratch-resistant coating. Part of the drawback to going to a place that actually accepted my insurance was that they weren't one of those one-hour places, so I ponied up the cash and agreed to come back in four days to pick up the glasses. Oh well. Since I was already at the mall, I foolishly decided to take a stroll around for a while to kill Sunday-afternoon time. I meandered into Dillard's and had barely crossed the threshold before being assaulted, typically, by a perfume saleswoman, who lunged at me armed with a cologne bottle. Her: Would you like to try Manifesto, the new fragrance by Isabella Rossalini?
Manifesto???? The hell is that? The fragrance for wordy political militants?? To tell the truth, I felt a little guilty about being at the mall at all. Something about the country having been slapped upside the head this week made an activity as frivolous as shopping seem highly inappropriate, but then again, I suppose there's really no good that can come of sitting at home fretting about it. What really slayed me, though, was that the mall was having some Bridal Bonanza (with an equally-ridiculous title) complete with recruited 17-year-old models prancing around the mall commons in lavish white bridal gowns while a middle-aged woman dressed in what looked like a cheap prom dress played The Wedding March on a harp. That was the straw. I beelined for the nearest exit.
Me (wincing): No, thank you.
posted by Kate at 4:18 PM link/comments
