Finding Contentment at the Mall

I hate to admit it, but I used to be a mall walker. You know, one of those folks who don their athletic shoes and take over the mall early in the morning, often in packs. Well, I walked solo, but still felt the shame and stigma of being identified with those other folks. I should have been outside, pounding the pavement and sweating. But that was the whole point of mall walking. You don't have to sweat (unless you want to), the "pavement" is nice and even, no rocks, no potholes, no code orange air quality alerts, no dog poop to dodge. So, for me it served its purpose at the time.

The downside of mall walking was the emotional sterility of the environment. You see the same things in the store windows for weeks on end, you see the same people, and then there's that "mall aroma". You know what I mean. Next time you're in a mall, breathe deeply and try to figure out what you're smelling. Is it all that fabric from the clothing stores, or do the property managers, at the behest of the mall owners, actually pump something into the air in order to manipulate your behavior, in this case, buying something? Like in Las Vegas, where the air in casinos is supposedly artificially oxygenated in order to keep you alert, enhance the effects of alcohol, and keep you throwing your money at lady luck. Or maybe that's just an urban legend.

So, I'd walk the mall, trying to keep up a heart-healthy pace, all the while scrutinizing the offerings in the store windows. It was hard not to look at many of them and think, "Wow, that would look great for the company Christmas party"; "This would be perfect for New Year's Eve dinner with my husband at that intimate restaurant up in the mountains"; or "This blouse is just what I need for work; I can wear it with so many things." You know the kind of thinking when you're trying to rationalize a purchase.

So many choices. So many possibilities for transforming myself. Or so I thought. It quickly became overwhelming. I pondered the level of desire for new "stuff" that I experienced while walking. It also seemed that many of the stores rotated new merchandise on roughly a three-week schedule. So, I thought, I buy something that I can't live without today, and three weeks later, there's something new in the window. What's that all about? Do so-called fashion trends really change that rapidly?

Well, in case you're wondering, I always resisted the temptation to go shopping after my walk, when the stores had opened. But as I continued to think about the experience of being in a mall, it dawned on me in a very powerful way that the entire mission of the stores is to generate discontent. Discontent, that is, with what you currently have. The stores have the "cure" for that. Buy this dress and you'll feel sexy. Buy these overpriced jeans and you'll know without a doubt that you're cool. Buy this $700 handbag and everyone will know that you are living large.

So, the whole point is to make you unhappy with what you currently own, which, in the world of the mall, equates to what you are. To plant the seed that, if you just buy this thing or that, you'll be happier. Life will be good again. That is, until the merchandise in the storefronts changes again. Really thinking about this seemed to relieve me of a huge burden. I could, if I chose, continue walking in the mall without experiencing this artificial discontent. I was fine, just as I was, without the new dress, jeans, or handbag.

I am, however, still wondering about "mall air".