Branding

This morning, I thought I might be seeing things. I went to get Sylvia her breakfast, and the milk had a decidedly green cast to it. Thought it might be the light, the reflection inside the refrigerator. But no, the milk was green.

She drank water with her breakfast.

And Alison and Maddie had a good laugh when they got home. They didn't even mind when I said they would be drinking the rest of that gallon of milk.

I needed to get out of the house today. Specifically, I wanted to check out the new outlet mall. It just opened this weekend, so I figured I needed to go see what all the fuss is about.

The suburbanites must be in heaven. It's a big outdoor mall, filled with the latest and greatest in brand-name fashion. And if there's anything people around here are fond of, it is name-brand anything. We drive our named cars to our named subdivisions, wearing our designer jeans and shoes, entering our houses filled with the latest from a series of particular catalogues and boutiques. If it comes from Pottery Barn, it must be better than the identical item from Target.

We are big fans of the conspicuous consumption.

The outlet mall is nice, I have to admit. It's outdoors, which is a plus, though it's not quite as lovely and trendy as similar malls I've seen (Tucson has a particularly lovely one), and as it's an outlet mall, it does not have shops like an Apple store or Williams Sonoma. The "designers" are mid-level, stores like Cole Haan and Michael Kors, Gymboree and BCBG. But I enjoyed looking in the windows, checking things out.

I had heard stories of the crowds in the Coach store over the weekend. I didn't go in, but I glanced in the window - the store was packed, huge lines. Not sure just what sorts of discounts and prices were going on in there, but I'm not sure it matters. The Coach bag is emblematic of class, a badge of honor for the bourgeoisie. People here would stand in line for hours at the thought of scoring a deal on this label.

It is, after all, all about the labels. You're no one if you aren't wearing/driving/carrying a brand that identifies you.

As if I'm above the afore-mentioned hysteria - I've had my head turned a time or two (did I not spend time scouring Loehmann's in NYC?). Today I settled for a stop in the Ann Taylor outlet (I know, I know - I was there just yesterday), where I found amazing deals. And if you spent more than $300, you got a huge discount.

Or so I was told.

Now that Sylvia and her friend are done working on their salt dough landforms in the kitchen, I need to go supervise the clean-up. Must get ready for Idol - Dolly Parton tonight. Ick - I have to listen to nine (count 'em, 9) Dolly Parton songs, which feels like a torture ... but maybe we'll get rid of Cheater Girl. Fingers crossed ...