I don't often visit shopping malls. I lack the laser focus and dedicated fortitude of the true shopper — not to mention ready cash.
I'm just flat-out uncomfortable in malls. They're hot and stuffy or cold and drafty, the lighting too dim or too bright. Music is bland and insipid or, in stores geared to teen consumers, thumping rap at deafening decibel level. And don't even get me started on those irritating kiosk people that suddenly leap out at anyone unwise enough to make eye contact.
Discretionary dollars in my pocket are more likely to be spent on high-end grocery products than high fashion. That's probably a sad commentary on my priorities, but there you are. Given the choice of an hour at Saks or an hour at Straubs, you know where I'll be.
During the recent spate of ice and snow, however, I became a major mallrat. It was a challenge to stay vertical on slick sidewalks, so I joined the fray of morning mallwalkers making endless loops around and around — like those little mechanical ducks circling the duck pond booth at children's carnivals.
For a week I was the Margaret Mead of malldom, an anthropologist in the field, observing native customs in suburban shopping centers, each one a separate subculture.
Crestwood (part of the Westfield chain) seems to be the designated center for seniors in groups. There's a casual, neighborhood feeling and a lot of schmoozing. ("Hey, Eddie! How ya' doin'? Where's Betty? Did you lose power yesterday?") Dress code is relaxed — baggy sweats, jeans and khakis. Young moms pushing strollers are socializing while power-walking three-abreast, ponytails flying in unison. Older couples holding hands stroll along at a slower pace, stopping to window shop.
At West County (another Westfield Shoppingtown) walkers mostly travel solo — dressed up, rather than dressed down. One woman was actually speed-walking in high-heeled boots! I couldn't keep up with her in sneakers. In fact, everyone set a purposeful pace; perhaps this is the "before work" crowd, trying to get in their laps before they head to the office. A young woman zipping past, book in hand, was thoroughly absorbed in her reading. She never looked up, yet somehow managed to swerve efficiently around those in her path. I wanted to see the book title. Couldn't catch her, either. (Did I mention everyone walks really fast here?)
At the Galleria the crowd is diverse, mood is mellow, likewise the music — Broadway show tunes, jazzy piano bar sounds, an occasional reggae cut. I rated this one best overall ambience; i.e., wide passageways, uncluttered feel, warm lighting, artful window displays. A fountain and waterfall are nice touches.
My mall studies ended when the ice melted. I was glad to get back outside.
