What Not To Wear

We are truly Official Residents now. We went to the Mall of America today.

It wasn't our idea. My best friend, Ora, is in town for her nephew's bar mitzvah. She brought along her 8-year-old son, Elias. To sweeten the trip for him, she promised him a couple rides at MOA, so we were happy to oblige today and be their drivers.

Yep, it's a big mall. And, yep, there are amusement park rides in the middle of it (INSIDE!), including a log flume water ride and two roller coasters.


Elias rode the water flume all by himself for the first time. Threw his hands up in the air on the big downward slide at the end and everything.



The sheer enormity of this coliseum of consumerism and all its throngs made me cringe inside my skin, especially on a rainy Saturday. Everyone was pushing a stroller, and holding a coffee beverage or fruit smoothie. But, it was a great place to watch people. Waves and waves of people eddied around us as Ora and Elias rode rides, and I sat with Audrey and Ken, while he fed her a bottle.

After the manufactured perfectionism of LA, folks here are starkly shlubby in comparison. I definitely saw at least 20 women who'd make great makeover candidates on the TLC show, "What Not To Wear." Bad perms. Mom jeans. Bad highlights. Garish, stripey highlights in three tones, a la Ginger Spice from ten years ago. And, this stripey thing goes for the men, too. Go figure? I don't know if people are just getting crazy with the Clairol on their own, or if there are salons that actually charge money for these do's. There must be salons, though, because there were just too many of them to account for only botched-up bathroom jobs.

A very popular and ubiquitous clothing choice is to wear some sort of jersey or sweatshirt with Minnesota written on it. This is true for both men and women. Come to think of it, I saw many couples in matching Minnesota shirts. Other locales, such as Notre Dame or Ohio State make more infrequent appearances. Saw a whole large family in Ohio State sweatshirts. With matching hats, natch.

While observing this phenomenon, I was reminded of visiting my friend, Jocelyn, ten years ago in Midland, Michigan. She pointed out, and I'll never forget, that all the stores there have the word, STORE, in their signs. Grocery Store. Clothing Store. Bait Store. Gun Store. Which made us both wonder, did people there really need the extra clue whenever they ventured out that, yes, indeed, this here is an establishment that sells things? Why, yes Bob, you can come on in and buy stuff here, because this is a store.

Maybe people here easily forget where they are? Or, maybe it's one of those things like one of those radio shows that give you $100 if they find you wearing their moniker on Tuesdays or something!

If Ken and I go out and buy Minnesota shirts tomorrow, I'm gonna be looking for the prizewinners' van to find us...