Are malls dead?

The girls and I were in Spokane yesterday doing our usual "city day" errands. One particular errand took us near a mall. We had a little spare time, so on impulse I asked the girls if they wanted to walk around. Malls are far away from us and we seldom set foot inside one, so this was a rare treat.

But the inside startled us. It seemed barren, with empty storefronts everywhere. Keep in mind this was a Thursday afternoon, about 1 pm.

The mall was spacious and well-lit with two floors, but I'm estimating about half (or more) of the store fronts were empty. The food court, which should have been decently full of people since it was still lunch time, only had about three out of (perhaps) fifteen food vendors open. One or two tables had diners, that was it.

We passed some interesting displays, such as this "trashion" exhibit (fashions made of trash), some of which were very clever.

There were a few vibrant corners in some spots, but you'll notice shoppers are conspicuously absent.

And so much of the mall was dismally empty. At this point it seemed like a downward spiral with no shops to attract shoppers, and no shoppers to keep shops in business.

The interesting thing is this mall is located in an enormously crowded part of Spokane in what seems like a decent neighborhood. It has some large anchor stores -- Sears, Barnes & Noble, Macy's. Yet it's dying.

Oh, I forgot to add... we've been in this mall before. We pop in every couple of years. In prior times it was bustling, with full store fronts and lots of people.

It is just this mall, or is it malls in general? We don't go into enough different ones to know. Thoughts?

The American Idol culture

We've had our friend GG (who is almost 17) with us for the two weeks of her Easter vacation from boarding school. In an effort to entertain the poor kid beyond our usual daily routine of farm chores, schoolwork, reading, housecleaning, etc., we've taken a few excursions into the city just for jollies.

If you think an extended stay on a farm is boring, just try finding something to do in a city that doesn't require large outlays of cash. We've actually wandered through two malls just for slips and giggles, and all four of us (myself, Older and Younger Daughter, and GG) find ourselves agog at the awfulness of them. Rather than energized and refreshed, we come away foot-sore and critical -- even GG, who is a self-described confirmed urbanite.

One moment was pretty funny. We walked into a mall and stopped at the Mall Directory to get our bearings. "We have to go THIS way," said Older Daughter. "Or is it THAT way?" I replied. We got our bearings and started walking, after which I said to Younger Daughter, "That's it. This confirms us as a bunch of country bumpkins."

As usual, our biggest chuckles came from shoe fashions. I confess, current trendy women's shoe fashions just floor me. I mean, really... why would anyone wear these? And how do they do it? It's like walking around on tippy-toe all day. Ouch.

The girls decided they had to try on a pair. So while GG was occupied in looking for a pair of sensible flats (which was the reason we were in this shoe store to begin with), Older and Younger Daughter each slipped on a pair of heels. Then balancing carefully and pulling themselves upright with the help of the shelving units, they paused long enough for me to take a picture before collapsing back on the bench. Phew, what an ordeal!

(Momentary digression: On the other hand, these shoe fashions are certainly no weirder than what's gracing fashion catwalks these days, such as: Bricks on the feet...

...and an urban interpretation of the Wild West. The caption reads: "Suffer for your art: The heels can only be worn for several hours at a time before becoming too uncomfortable."

Okay, end of digression.)

We paused by a store selling "nail art" and agreed the results liked like pretty and decorative vampire claws or something. We also speculated on what it would be like to milk a cow with these things on. Poor cow.

I took special note of a store targeted specifically at little girls...

...because of how outrageously fluorescent this year's fashions appear to be. No sneaking through the woods watching deer in these colors!

The, um, "messages" displayed in shop windows are questionable at best. (And this doesn't even include the Victoria's Secret windows, which we passed in a hurry with eyes averted).

(Oddly the most interesting store we encountered -- and I'm kicking myself for not taking photos -- was a store selling... reptiles. Yes, really. It was a large place with many display cases selling everything from chameleons to pythons to turtles to tarantulas (yes I'm aware tarantulas are not reptiles, duh) to anoles to iguanas. It was like wandering into a small zoo. The display cases were beautiful and everything was nicely maintained, squeaky clean, and fascinating. Why on earth a store like this was located in a mall, and what volume of business they must get, can only be surmised.)

The rare trips to these cultural icons confirmed my low opinion of malls. To me, they're the epitome of an "American Idol culture," full of shallow and vain interests. Once in awhile this country bumpkin mama needs confirmation that raising kids in the country isn't such a bad thing.

Malls also reinforced the stupidity of fashion trends in general. In the past, readers have sent me stuff that would make your eyeballs bleed.

Consider these: Mantyhose... designed for "warmth and comfort."

The article mentions these trendy items are also called "brosiery," "guylons," "he-tards," and "beau-hose" -- and assure the appalled reader that "Function over form may be the truest drive behind the sales" since "figures that show sales are strongest in some of the world's coldest countries."

Or consider these: Manties. Yes, that's manly panties.

Somehow coupled with all this nonsense pop culture fashion, it didn't surprise me to stumble upon this horrifying article about a Toddlers & Tiaras mother who modeled a G-string in front of her two-year-old daughter to help her become "culturally diverse."

Apparently this woman -- a mother of four -- was being photographed for a racy calendar and insisted her daughter watch the shoot. She told the photographer, "My style of parenting is extremely different. I think exposing your child to whatever you can is just a really great way to be culturally diverse."

The mother also said, "She know, and has full comprehension of how the business works. She has a vast understanding that some seven-year-olds, six-year-olds don't have." She also believes her daughter is more like a 17-year-old than a toddler. Way to mess up your kid, lady.

The implications of this woman's actions and the repercussions it will have on her children are absolutely beyond belief.

You see, to me this whole fashion thing is just a continuum. The stuff we see in malls is at one end; the (cough) "mother" who sticks her naked butt in her toddler's face in the name of "diversity" is at the other end.

In the end, it's the children who suffer. And those children will grow into adults who think this stuff is normal.

Okay, I'm done ranting.

Season's Greedy

On the way to Younger Daughter's fiddle recital in the city last Friday evening, we found ourselves with a little time to kill.  So... we went to a mall.

Malls are rare excursions for us, largely because (a) they're so far away, and (b) they're so useless.  What on earth is there to buy in a mall except clothes?  And since all our clothes come from thrift shops, we never venture elsewhere.

Anyway, it was all dolled up for Christmas, of course.

Younger Daughter was particularly taken with the idea of palm trees - in north Idaho!  (Well, northeast Washington - we were in Spokane.)

Want proof that the Lewis family is nothing but a bunch of country bumpkins?  Older Daughter took one look at this store sign and misread it as "Manure."  True story.

Gawping.

Interesting signage.

But you know the biggest reason we get turned off by malls?  The rampant consumerism.  Oh sure, I realize that's the whole purpose of a mall - to offer places to shop - but when we saw this on a store window, we knew we were in the wrong place.  (It's a bit dark, so click to enlarge.)

"Season's Greedy?"  Now tell me something... Someone had to think of this little slogan.  And someone had to believe this slogan would be attractive enough to draw people into their store.  And their logic is......??

Frolicking at the mall

A reader named Dave posted a comment on yesterday's snow post.  I found it so interesting that I decided to post it separately so it doesn't get buried.  I italicized and bolded some of his more interesting observations.  Thanks for the input, Dave.
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Hello from [sarcasm]sunny[sarcasm] California. We're definitely having a "white" Thanksgiving. Can't remember ever having this much snow in November. We need some of that "global warming" that everybody has been harping about.

Of course we knew that this storm was coming, and how much snow we would be getting (about 2 feet so far), so we made preparations -- getting in firewood, closing up outbuildings, battening down the hatches.

As I was making my preparations I could see our goats frolicking in their pasture enjoying the pre-storm calm, sunny weather. They could see me bustling about being busy doing things that they had no understanding about.

My thought as I was watching them was that they had no clue about what was about to befall them ... spending days locked up inside their shed where they would get bored, irritable and destructive.

Then I thought that my goats were very much like those people who are completely ignorant of the fact that our country is about to enter a time of major storming. They frolic at the mall, they go about their lives like things are always going to be as they are now.

My goats didn't need to prepare a safe, warm place to weather out the storm because I did it for them. There are people who are depending on the government to do the same for them.

What these people don't realize is that they will suffer the same fate as my goats. I own them. I can do with them as I wish. They have no freedom, no rights. Their lives are completely in my hands.

Anyway, just some thoughts on a cold, snowy morning.

A trip to the mall

I had errands in the city this past week on a day when I didn’t have to rush home for anything. In looking at a map to determine the most efficient route to complete my errands, I noticed I would be passing right by a large mall.

“Hey girls!” I announced to my kids. “Would you like to walk around a mall this afternoon?”

For the record, we haven’t set foot inside a mall in four or five years. Why should we? There’s nothing we would buy (most of our clothing and household goods are purchased second-hand) and the nearest mall is an hour and a half drive away. So this was viewed as a huge treat by my girls. Besides, I thought it would be interesting to stop in and see how malls have changed.

Well it was interesting, all right, but not because of the stores. In fact, it turned into a fascinating sociological and anthropological experience.

Remember this was early summer, on a Tuesday afternoon, so the mall was full of… teenagers.

Believe it or not, my girls don’t see a lot of teenagers outside our home town, at least not in large numbers. Urban teens are a whole different species than rural teens. There wasn’t a cowboy hat – and even very little denim – to be seen.

Now understand, I have a teen. And I knew there would be teens at the mall. A good part of the reason I wanted my kids to go to this mall was… well, to show my teen what’s out there. What she’s missing. What her publicly-schooled peers are like. What they’re wearing, how they’re acting, what makeup they have on, what the boys are like, that kind of thing.

And please note, the kids at this mall were not bad kids. Far from it. They were quiet and well-behaved, walking around in groups and not causing any trouble. They shopped. They ate. They hung out. No big deal.

But my kids were shocked nonetheless. To them, it was like watching a circus freak show. “Look at that one!” one or the other daughter would whisper, pointing discretely. “Oh my gosh, look at that one!” Spiked and/or unnaturally colored hair. Tattoos. Body piercings. Fashions. Language.

It reminded me of an incident that happened when my oldest was about eight (in fact, it was probably one of the last times we were in this particular mall). Coming out of a Barnes & Noble, my oldest tugged at my sleeve until I leaned down. “Mom!” she whispered, pointing. “Is THAT what you don’t want me looking like when I’m a teenager?”

I looked at a fourteen-year-old human Bratz doll walking by, complete with fishnet stockings and makeup that must have been applied with a trowel. I whispered back “Yes!”, pleased that she understood at so tender an age what is considered inappropriate in our family.

So now that my oldest is thirteen and taking an interest in her appearance, I am so so so so so so so happy we live in the country and are homeschooling, and that her peers – even the publicly-schooled ones – don’t look like Bratz dolls and hang out at the mall.

My girls understood what they’re missing, all right… and both expressed gratitude that they’re missing it.

Phew.