gridlore | Musing on modern commercialism

I really hate shopping. Especially for clothes. I'm in the "make a plan, get what you need and go." school.

But I love shopping malls. Especially the big enclosed ones. I can wander around them and just people watch for hours. I think part of the appeal is the anonymous way you can pass through these paces. No one notices you unless you want to be noticed, which was exactly where my brain was today.

I think my first great love (as far as malls go) was Eastridge Mall here in San Jose. When it opened, it was by far the largest mall in the Bay Area and was a wonder to behold. Three levels, all open to a concourse filled with ramps between levels, strange sculptures, fountains, and terraces everywhere. It was like some arcology come to life. I can remember walking through it with my mom, and imagining Mobile Infantry storming down the ramps, or aliens running some strange shop in the corner. Eastridge has been remodeled now, and has lost much of the magic that made it a wonderland.

Over the years, I've become something of a mall critic. I despise malls that are nothing but straight lines and storefronts. Break up the sight lines! Add some curves, something other than stores to catch the eye. Alas, the mall I was in today, Oakridge (to us old timers.. it was bought up by Westfield and is now a "Shopping Town") was built on an old straight line plan, and is now a racetrack design, it doesn't really do much inside to improve the experience. Outside is a different story, with a nice row of eateries and entries to the mall.

There is one exception to my shopping aversion: bookstores. I spent an hour or so in Borders, and came out with a couple of new books. I managed to avoid buying a Judas Priest DVD.

I did have a fun moment. The Scientologists have a kiosk in Oakridge. Did y'all know that I'm an official Suppressive Person? Got labeled that years ago for helping a LRonner get away from the cult. (Long story, catch me at a con sometime and I'll tell you the story.) So whenever I see some poor schmuck getting drawn in by the "Free Stress Test" scam, I make a point of walking over and telling him to ask the examiner what a Suppressive Person is. Several of the cultists who work that kiosk recognize me now. since I'm a SP, they can't even talk to me without getting in trouble with the Grand Council of Clams.