Journey to the Center of the Mall

I've been looking about my closet recently, and I've come to the conclusion that I wear the same clothes all the time. I thought I should maybe spring out and buy a new shirt. So I went to the Roseville Mall.

Bad idea.

Nearly every time I journey to the mall, I have some sort of psychoanalytic breakdown at being tossed about in the seas of capitalism and pop culture. It seems so simple; all I want is a blue, short sleeved shirt, with no obnoxious brand all over it, for a reasonable price. Instead, what I get is overstimulation. Blaring techno-funk, racks upon racks of insanely inflated prices, hordes of teenagers poring accessories, etc, etc, etc. But it's not the good kind of overstimulation, like the childlike sense of wonder I get at grocery stores. Rather, I just feel filthy for playing some sort of role in this appearance-obsessed culture of ours. Why would I ever want a cardigan sweater with a screen-printed skull on it? Who the hell wears this?

Now, I like to look good, same as the next person. I want to come across as a productive member of society, who doesn't look like they still live in a basement. I'm sure I share the "look good" aspect with the hordes of teeny-boppers and college bros that I fought with at the clearance rack. However, I think there's a crucial distinction here. I try to wear clothes that fit my own self-perception, the sort of easy going vision that I have of myself somewhere in my brain. I don't try to wear clothes that will recreate that image into something different. I think maybe the latter view is the crucial failing point of much of youth culture.

Maybe it's all a phase, I can remember being somewhat obsessed with having name brand clothes when I was in high school. Maybe instead it's some part of getting older, of having new experiences, of becoming more self-aware. I'd like to think so, but if that's the case, it seems to me that there are quite a few folks my age who remain in a state of arrested development. And not in the hilarious liberal arts college way.

But anyways, yes, I spent about an hour at the mall, trying to find what I was looking for. I have a couple engagements this week that I figured I needed to look well put together for. Plus, as aforementioned, I wear the same clothes all the time. Finally, thankfully, I found the sort of blue short sleeved shirt that suited my taste. Amazingly enough, it's not even plaid.

Then I got out as fast as I could.