Style Channel

When recently discussing shopping with Linda, she confessed that it functions as a pick-me-up on bad days. I agreed, noting that going to the mall is empowering: it endows the shopper with the illusion of agency. We determine what stores to enter, choose which items to try on and which to leave on the rack, and ultimately decide what--if anything--to buy. The whole experience imparts the otherwise impotent consumer with feelings of strength, decisiveness, independence, and proactivity. As an added benefit, the salespeople are so helpful and kind. "How are you?" they'll ask, and the best among them can fool you into thinking they genuinely care for your well-being.

"Oh, I've had a crumby day, and buying this shirt will give me the feelings of agency, decisiveness, and personal worth I need to feel better about myself," the honest part of you wants to respond. Instead, either because you don't want to project an image of weakness, or because that answer is too long, it is generally easier to settle on "I'm fine, thank you."

Its SSRI-like effects notwithstanding, shopping has lost the charm it once held for me. I've come to terms with the fact that I generally don't desire anything at the mall, and there is certainly nothing there that I "need." Although it can be fun to just walk around and people-watch, shopping now feels too self-indulgent, and often a little decadent. So I decided to make my Christmas purchases as efficiently as possible. I chose the Mission Viejo Mall, since it has a reputation both for providing an array of high quality shops, and for being relatively empty. To hedge against the possibility of crowds, I decided I would go mid-week, early in the afternoon.

As my Prius and I approached the mall, I noticed the long line of cars queued up to enter the parking lot. I was aghast--AGHAST. Who goes shopping on a WEDNESDAY AFTERNOON, in MISSION VIEJO?!? It was only one o'clock...shouldn't all these shoppers be at work? Sigh. The initial difficulties of just getting into the parking lot were repaid when a car pulled out of a space right next to the food court. This is prime shopping real estate, so I counted my blessings as I parked the Prius.

My sister has a theory that the farther south one goes in Orange County, the whiter (and more racist) one will find the demographics. Her postulate is based on a map at the Simon Weisenthal Center (a.k.a. the Museum of Tolerance), which shows the locations of various hate groups in the greater Los Angeles area. She said the hate groups become increasingly concentrated in the more southern parts of OC. I noted that Mission Viejo did seem to be a very homogenous area: beside me, there were only four Asians in the whole mall, and two of them were workers. One was a boy wearing rhino slippers. I thought it strange that someone would go shopping in slippers, until I noticed he was an employee of one of those mall vendor carts. He was modeling the goods of his stand, which included an assortment of slippers shaped like animal faces and paws. This seemed like very comfortable work attire, and I wondered if I should exchange my job for the chance to wear rhino slippers to work for minimum wage.

Later that evening I decided to catch some late night television before going to bed. Channel 63 is the style channel--one that was apparently added to my parents' arsenal of channels while I was away in China. How do I look? is basically a make-over show in which two friends and/or family members create new fashion and hair regimens for the contestant. As an added twist, a professional stylist is hired to create a third, alternate look. At the end, the contestant is allowed to view all three styles, and chooses one.

The contestant this night was a very unwilling participant. She was content with her appearance, and only agreed to go on the show to bring happiness to her family. She was a domestic engineer and Sunday school teacher who looked rather like an unfashionable Golden Girl (very '80s). The woman's daughter, sister, and a (mean!) professional stylist expressed their disapprobation of her hair and clothing, then left to shop for new attire.

When interviewed by the show's host, the woman began to cry, and objected to their characterization of her style. She said that she was very pleased with her style, thought it was "feminine and pretty." Clearly satisfied with her looks, she didn't understand her family's desire for her to morph into a more updated self.

Although I didn't particularly like her appearance, I felt sad for this lady. She seemed very sweet, and if she was happy the way she was, it seemed unfair for her family to be "embarrassed" by her (slightly passé) style of dress. Maybe all people should be left to their own devices, I mused. If someone wants to be ugly, outdated, or even hideous, that's his/her business! Maybe we all have the right to dress however we choose, irrespective of the grief or embarrassment it causes others. I think my high-mindedness is informed partly by the American ideal of the right of the individual over collective responsibility. Maybe by that, and the pathetic sight of that woman losing her identity at the hands of those acting "in her best interest."