I grew up in an era where hanging at the mall was a regular weekend activity. Lingering in the food court was as natural as sampling lip gloss flavors in the department store. My sister and I would always get double-scoop cones at the end of the day, and our mom would wonder out loud why we weren't hungry for supper.
Then I grew up and moved on and away. I don't currently live near any major retail therapy locations, and that's probably a good thing. At the very least it's saved me a ton of cash over the years. If you can't shop, you can't buy.
The internet has helped me cope with my non-mall access. Heck, the internet is like a mall on steroids. I can find anything and everything online - and I usually do. Thing is, I usually go looking for one item, purchase it and hopefully find a coupon code for free shipping. End of story.
The internet meets most of my needs. Most of the time.
Occasionally, however, I have to venture down the road 20 miles or so to gain access to a real, live retail establishment located within the confines of a mall. When I do, I am bombarded by things. So. Many. Pretty. Shiny. Things.
These things are enticing. They glitter and sparkle and seduce me with their newness. For a small price, or a quick swipe of my plastic, they can come home with me and be mine, all mine - forever!
The more I look, the more I become convinced: I need these things. They would enhance my world in many wondrous ways. They would increase my happiness quotient and quality of life. They would make me look better, younger, thinner, hipper and more cutting-edge. These things would make my life complete. They are practically a requirement.
No matter that I wasn't aware these things even existed before entering the store. No matter that I've lived my entire life without them. No matter that I already have something similar at home.
Facts like this don't make a difference when confronted with the splash and lure of things. Besides, you can never have too many shoes, blankets, swimsuits, sun glasses, phone cases, toasters, pillows, cardigans or (fill in the blank here). You can never have too many things.
The prettiness of things combined with their vast quantities put the average shopper like me into overstimulation mode. I'm no longer able to think logically or make smart decisions. Spending lavishly suddenly seems the norm. Everyone else around me is doing it, so it must be rational.
I am tempted. I'll readily admit that. But I also know the real-life truths about impulse purchases. When I return home with things I never knew I needed before I knew they existed when I saw them at the mall, their glitter has mysteriously disappeared. Things that were filled with allure in-store become blatantly less attractive and 82 percent less useful within 10 minutes of arriving at home. They become ordinary.
So, although it isn't easy (and I am not always successful), I back away from the jewelry rack and just say no to the cute succulent garden in home decor. As for the lip gloss counter, I don't even go there.
- Jill Pertler's column appears Thursdays in the Times. She can be reached at jillpert@mediacombb.net.
Then I grew up and moved on and away. I don't currently live near any major retail therapy locations, and that's probably a good thing. At the very least it's saved me a ton of cash over the years. If you can't shop, you can't buy.
The internet has helped me cope with my non-mall access. Heck, the internet is like a mall on steroids. I can find anything and everything online - and I usually do. Thing is, I usually go looking for one item, purchase it and hopefully find a coupon code for free shipping. End of story.
The internet meets most of my needs. Most of the time.
Occasionally, however, I have to venture down the road 20 miles or so to gain access to a real, live retail establishment located within the confines of a mall. When I do, I am bombarded by things. So. Many. Pretty. Shiny. Things.
These things are enticing. They glitter and sparkle and seduce me with their newness. For a small price, or a quick swipe of my plastic, they can come home with me and be mine, all mine - forever!
The more I look, the more I become convinced: I need these things. They would enhance my world in many wondrous ways. They would increase my happiness quotient and quality of life. They would make me look better, younger, thinner, hipper and more cutting-edge. These things would make my life complete. They are practically a requirement.
No matter that I wasn't aware these things even existed before entering the store. No matter that I've lived my entire life without them. No matter that I already have something similar at home.
Facts like this don't make a difference when confronted with the splash and lure of things. Besides, you can never have too many shoes, blankets, swimsuits, sun glasses, phone cases, toasters, pillows, cardigans or (fill in the blank here). You can never have too many things.
The prettiness of things combined with their vast quantities put the average shopper like me into overstimulation mode. I'm no longer able to think logically or make smart decisions. Spending lavishly suddenly seems the norm. Everyone else around me is doing it, so it must be rational.
I am tempted. I'll readily admit that. But I also know the real-life truths about impulse purchases. When I return home with things I never knew I needed before I knew they existed when I saw them at the mall, their glitter has mysteriously disappeared. Things that were filled with allure in-store become blatantly less attractive and 82 percent less useful within 10 minutes of arriving at home. They become ordinary.
So, although it isn't easy (and I am not always successful), I back away from the jewelry rack and just say no to the cute succulent garden in home decor. As for the lip gloss counter, I don't even go there.
- Jill Pertler's column appears Thursdays in the Times. She can be reached at jillpert@mediacombb.net.
