Selling the Fantasy :: Shopping Retail Essays

Selling the Fantasy I slow my step to a stroll as I approach the doors to the Staten Island Mall. I am finally back in New York, and, of course, the first thing I am going to do is shop. I am going to make the most of this little excursion. Abercrombie and Fitch, Gap, Express, here I come. Accompanying me on this venture are my trusty friends, Andrea and Jennifer, both also back home for a weekend break from college. As we walk past the sliding doors, we enter what we've been conditioned to think is every woman's paradise. Huge elevators to the left and right, eye-catching signs, beautifully ornate displays. Perhaps more an advertiser's paradise, now that I think about it. Walking along the first floor we come across an Abercrombie and Fitch store. Nothing like images of half-dressed beautiful people to start off my day. Why do we always come here? Every time, the same thing happens. I slow my step and look over at my friends. "Andi, not Abercrombie again," I whine. "Do you remember what happened last time we came here? You bought a tank top for $20 and only wore it once!" Andrea shoots me a bemused look and continues walking into the store. In a few minutes, I reluctantly follow her in. Yay, I think to myself, my voice dripping with sarcasm, prepare to be sold some overpriced beautiful people. Walking into the store, I am immediately confronted by attractive salespeople trying to sell us trendy clothes and huge images on the walls of a gorgeous woman (dressed in Abercrombie and Fitch, of course) in the arms of a handsome man. This is why I hate coming here. That image on the wall. I mean, who doesn't want to be that woman? Every woman does, no o ne can deny it; the countless advertising campaigns have managed to convince us that by dressing like her we could become her. Highly unlikely I know, but that is exactly what advertisers are so good at selling. That particular image. That identity. The "who you are" defined by the "what you wear." The beautiful woman who wears Abercrombie and Fitch. And by the time I realize that I'm not the beautiful woman who wears Abercrombie, but rather the poor college student who can't afford Abercrombie, I've already been convinced to buy just one more shirt.