Wordplay’s Shopping Extravaganza

I went shopping the other day, something I hadn’t done in quite a while—shopping for clothes, I mean. It’s like this: I hadn’t planned to be back in Kentucky, but here I am, and hardly any of my winter things with me. Since my job search over the summer was so unsuccessful, and my recent trip so fruitless, I don’t know when I’ll get back to California. I was unwilling to admit it, but I’m stuck here for now, and that meant I had to get some outerwear. No more running outside sans hat and gloves for me. Once I knew I was going to have to do it, even though I couldn’t afford it, I got myself in gear and headed over to the mall.

This was one of those experiences with an unexpected upside. Retail therapy can actually work sometimes, especially when you really haven’t bought any clothes in years. I was trying to be practical and not spend more than I had to, so I looked around until I found a vest I could layer over my fleece. Hats, gloves, and scarves were all marked down, so even though I have several of each (in storage) I bit the bullet and accessorized at bargain prices. I was so exhausted by looking by that time that instead of buying pajamas, which I also needed, I grabbed a pair of leggings off a sale rack. Instead of buying the boots I first had in mind, I got a pair of water-resistant ankle boots. That was good because it turned out there were other things I had to spend money on that weren’t cheap but in my mind necessary. I didn’t ask to be put in the circumstances I’m in and can only do the best I can.

Spending beyond my means isn’t something I enjoy. I took pride in decades of frugality and was always able to make a dollar stretch pretty far, a skill I learned in my early working life when I lived paycheck to paycheck and sometimes couldn’t afford something as basic as a pair of shoes. But whereas going to the mall usually seemed like a chore when I was younger, it’s different now. Last week’s trip to the mall actually made me feel better: I enjoy looking at things even if I know I can’t buy them. The “commercialization” of the experience doesn’t bother me any more. I’ve come to understand that all those goods and services represent supply, demand, jobs, and fulfillment of people’s needs.

Once I got back to my room, I wondered if I would reconsider anything I had spent that day and decided to sleep on it. In my new leggings, I was quite a bit more comfortable than I had been and relieved to think that with my outerwear I wouldn’t have to risk frostbite when I went out the next day. I could continue walking places instead of going by car to stay warm. And when I woke up the next day, everything I had bought still seemed justified. Now in fact, I’m already concerned about running out of things like soap that I won’t have any way to get later. It’s a sad day when you’re having to plan ahead on things like soap, but that’s the way it is.

Despite the pressing need that sent me to the mall, it was still a little bit of an Aphrodite experience, in a good way, the way looking at and buying nice things for yourself always is. It was also a little bit of a Demeter experience, since it was the internal mothering voice that told me I’d better not go out any more without a hat and gloves. Athena and Apollo may have been along for the ride, too, on the strategizing end of things. And you thought going to the mall was just about frivolity.