An interesting little development in the world of retail seems to be a strange division in the way we are what we wear. On account of the Queens Birthday weekend being so damned cold here in the Windy City I spent a great deal of it indoors watching DVDs with the flatmates and sifting on the couch. But, needed to get outdoors for even the shortest time resulted in myself and a couple of mates making our way to a mall to buy new work gear.
Naturally, when you go on a shopping expedition with the guys you aren’t likely to end up carrying home bags and bags of stuff, as most of the trip is likely to end up being spent looking at stereos, cars, big feck-off TVs, video games, and/or ‘the ladies’. And seeing as both guys would usually have ‘the missus’ buying things for them, there wasn’t much looking at ‘the ladies’ going on.
None at all. Really.
And apparently, every road trip anywhere with me always involves a demand to ‘go get some chicken’. Personally I think is highly reasonable, but the guys are becoming concerned that I have a developing addiction. I think the first step is admitting that beady-eyed, beardy bastard gets me every time.
Anyhow, what this got me thinking about is the way in which you can really peg someone based the way they buy. I know it’s an old cliché, but way out in the Hutt you can spot the locals pretty easily based on what variety of track-suit or other sweat-shirting they choose to garb themselves in. And that makes me wonder, do people always dress like they do because of fiscal constraints, because they like to wear hoodies like all the others at the mall, or because shopping at one particular kind of place is where they feel most comfortable?
As I mentioned the other week, I have bought a couple of business shirts at Farmers because they have a particular shirt-tie combination that (usually) fits well, even if the colours are a little ‘so last year’ (apparently). Luckily, a quick consult with the resident experts who surround me at work determined that I’m not looking weird. To be honest, I’d rather be buying shirts from some swanky place that made them to measure, so I don’t have to worry about the arms being too short and the necks too loose, but hey, fiscal constraints and all.
Does this mean that I’m a snob?
Thing is, I know that a lot of the merchandise at the places I go and get the stuff I need is crappy (which doesn’t qualify as ‘shopping’, I’m not wandering around browsing). And, if I could afford to go and get better stuff I would.
Maybe an example serves. In food, which is a weakness of mine from way back, I won’t buy rubbish. But, only in some cases. Tinned tomatoes? Whatever’s cheapest. Salt? Who gives a toss. But meat/fish/cheese? Depends. If I’m looking at fixing myself a cheap feed to fill a gap, then it’s a mix of budget/wants. If it’s a meal for other people, then bring on the decent stuff.
Which is to my mind all very ordinary really, and something that everyone does. I don’t buy crap beer when mates are coming over. Unless they’re also dickheads.
Mind you, I also don’t buy really expensive beer to impress, because that would make me the dickhead.
It’s a weird little balancing act really. I buy barn-laid eggs because they’re just better tasting that cage ones. If I could buy real, golden-yolk farm eggs I would. But when it all comes down to it, they’re just eggs.
So what does all this have to do with the Lower Hutt mall?
Well, despite all the fuss made about ‘choice’ and ‘the consumer society’, most people really just seem to buy whatever the hell is placed in front of them, and malls are a great example of that. More often than not, the real choice is whether it’s worth the effort to find a place that doesn’t sell the same old stuff any other mall does. When you boil it all down, what’s the difference then between a five malls that offer exactly the same range of items, or more importantly the same range of ideas, and the old socialist utopia that mass-produces a limited number of goods to choose from?
I reckon the only difference is the way in which you can be more discerning when you have an increased income. Boutiques and other speciality stores, such as delicatessens, really cater to that part of society who have the time and money to choose to not shop at a department store.
And yes, I know that many people with money will spend a proportion of it in the same places that poor people do. I’ve known more than a few rich who buy cheap t-shirts and undies and save the money for the items they deem ‘important’, but the way in which their priorities differ from ‘the man in the street’ is interesting in and of itself.
Maybe, just maybe I thought, the ability to make reasonable, informed choices is something that is increasingly distinguishing our society?