Fox or Hare

Yesterday I hit up a massive shopping mall in Melbourne, Chadstone, or Chadvegas as the locals have named the icon of Melbourne suburban shopping. I haven’t been there since forever and I felt like I had just excited biosphere and had landed in a board game, signposted by chlorine fountains and shiny leafed plants.

I have theory that women now get their shopping hit buying for their children. This way they can justify their purchases and still get the high. Don’t agree with me? Why else then would there be such a plethora of children clothing stores in one place? Clothing stores selling eighty dollars dresses for three year olds, next to Cotton On, the staple of the childrens wardrobe in Australia. How do the high end brands survive, I wondered.

The hit that you get when you shop to feel something is akin to the first sip of champagne. Bitey, fresh, hopeful. Then every sip begins to taste the same and eventually, if you sip too much, you get a headache. Finding a replacement for this hit is hard. Man, I used to shop due to boredom and needing the hit. Now I am discerning with where my money goes. Nothing beats quality over trends and budget.

I refuse to spend alot of money on exercise wear beside good running shoes. Nobody cares what I look like while I am sweaty. I will spend money on clothes but I buy less and less often. I decide what I need in my wardrobe instead of being seduced by the fast hit. When I do browse, I often pick up a version of things I already own. I already have a red bag, a black wrap dress, a pair of silver sandals and yet I gravitate to them again.

Walking through a chain store yesterday, one that opened with much trumpeting when it arrives from America, I was disappointed in the women’s clothing. Everything looked like it was for the mother, Claire, on Modern family. The SAHM who does nothing for herself. They might as well as have been selling hair shirts and calling it The Martyr Collection.

Yet the children’s clothes in the same store were bright, bordering on age inappropriate for some of the pieces. Mum gets to dress like an Amish housewife and the daughter is costumed by Bob Mackie.

It’s a Mall of Madness I tell ya, Mall of Madness.


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