Meant to Buy

Revisiting Woodland after learning some secrets of the mall’s effectiveness in making the average goer into the avid consumer revealed the truth in many assertions that I had hitherto not bothered to notice.

Woodland Mall does in fact have skylights—and not just one big one in the center, but smaller ones down the four wings, which light up the hallway as peacefully majestic music plays. It also contains plenty of foliage, all fake, securing greenness year-round. The food court at Woodland is named Cafes in the Woods and decorated with fresh produce sculptures and leaf pictures. As Pahl wrote, “Life—abundant, even eternal—is the message. Malls thus play upon the human desire to experience growth and new life…” (73). And although Woodland is no Mall of America, it has its own attractions, for kids and adults alike, in the form of kiddie rides and hurricane wind boxes.

Stores are not merely about product anymore—they are about the image, the experience, being that brand. Each store plays different music to create their own unique atmosphere. The makeup store Bare Escentuals has, painted on the wall inside its door, makeup? No. Ballerinas. And just as Song aired television commercials of happy people running around, a jewelry store at Woodland Mall has a giant picture of a smiling wedding party. The jewelry piece itself is not featured, but its image is implied. Bath and Body Works has a sign out front bearing the words “New! Escape to the Tropics,” over top a picture of a nude woman showering in nature—no product in sight.

Many stores also prey upon women’s desire to achieve the “ideal” body. Female mannequins in store windows almost always have their tops pinned in the back because they are too big.

The mannequins are so slim that not even the smallest size fits them properly, yet women are told that if they purchase that shirt, perhaps they can inch closer to that image. I was especially startled at noticing the mannequins in the Francesca’s window; they were so skinny not even Vera-Ellen had a waist like that. And doesn’t everyone want to be a supermodel?

I realized the effectiveness of all this sensory bombarding when, upon seeing The Body Shop’s sale sign, I nearly rushed into the store. Now, I did not visit Woodland intending to purchase anything. I fit in the 40% Pahl reports (71), but only barely reached the 10% of goers who manage to not buy anything. The challenge in visiting the mall is not to find what you want, but to resist buying what you do not need.

Finally, a few other favorite ads, which put you in the center of the universe and create perceived obsolescence: