Shopping Malls: Urban Culture Temples
A shopping mall is ultimately a sanctuary where we try to fill up our emptiness, and attempt to satiate our
thirst for meaning.
thirst for meaning.
Text and photographs by Eduardo Barraza
Phoenix, Arizona. “You are here,” points a small arrow on the map of the shopping mall, situating us in an
immense world of retail and merchandise. The sign does us a favor: it gives us a position and a location. The
mall itself is not that merciful; it does not give us a destination. It does promise us, though, the person we
can become by reminding us just who we are. So we come as we are; leaving transformed is up to our wallet.
Desire is breathed at each step on the shinny tile floors in this parade of vanity and appeal. Thousands of
souls navigate there hypnotized, responding to the call of a commanding drum: consumerism. The mall is an
irresistible, charming place where apparel, gadgets, and stuff battle against our senses. In this island of
amazement dreaming is easy; reality comes at a price. A price that not everyone can pay, but the mall will let
us come and dream for free.
Appealing to our emotions, the mannequins attempt to make us think they look like us; the truth is they
want to make sure we look like them. “This look is cool; be cool,” they whisper. Thus, the underlying
message behind the shop windows is that we can actually purchase more than just a fashionable jacket, a
pair of name brand shoes, or a hot dress: we are actually buying an identity, a ticket to join the peer-
pressure group, and the title to be called “hot” or “cool.”
Amid colors and shapes, our minds are persuaded to look, to yield, and to buy. Breathing in this atmosphere,
walking and looking, coming in and out of stores, is not enough. We have to be holding a bag in our hand
before we leave, preferably, a bag from a fancy and trendy store. Leaving the mall bag-less means we have
survived the psychological battle of emotions, stoically defending our wallets from being assaulted. However,
if we came looking for meaning and status, by leaving empty-handed we’d loose the battle.
A shopping mall is an urban culture temple where we worship the trend god and bow before the fashion
goddess. We journey religiously through the walkways and from store to store, seeking to be shaped and
molded into something we aspire to be. We adore name brands and designer models, looking to be wrapped
in colorful pieces of apparel, hoping perhaps not only to cover our natural nakedness, but to disguise or
affirm our social status. A shopping mall is ultimately a sanctuary where we try to fill up our emptiness, and
attempt to satiate our thirst for meaning. This in spite of knowing that artificial appearance is insatiable and
that true meaning cannot be purchased or found behind a shop window.
immense world of retail and merchandise. The sign does us a favor: it gives us a position and a location. The
mall itself is not that merciful; it does not give us a destination. It does promise us, though, the person we
can become by reminding us just who we are. So we come as we are; leaving transformed is up to our wallet.
Desire is breathed at each step on the shinny tile floors in this parade of vanity and appeal. Thousands of
souls navigate there hypnotized, responding to the call of a commanding drum: consumerism. The mall is an
irresistible, charming place where apparel, gadgets, and stuff battle against our senses. In this island of
amazement dreaming is easy; reality comes at a price. A price that not everyone can pay, but the mall will let
us come and dream for free.
Appealing to our emotions, the mannequins attempt to make us think they look like us; the truth is they
want to make sure we look like them. “This look is cool; be cool,” they whisper. Thus, the underlying
message behind the shop windows is that we can actually purchase more than just a fashionable jacket, a
pair of name brand shoes, or a hot dress: we are actually buying an identity, a ticket to join the peer-
pressure group, and the title to be called “hot” or “cool.”
Amid colors and shapes, our minds are persuaded to look, to yield, and to buy. Breathing in this atmosphere,
walking and looking, coming in and out of stores, is not enough. We have to be holding a bag in our hand
before we leave, preferably, a bag from a fancy and trendy store. Leaving the mall bag-less means we have
survived the psychological battle of emotions, stoically defending our wallets from being assaulted. However,
if we came looking for meaning and status, by leaving empty-handed we’d loose the battle.
A shopping mall is an urban culture temple where we worship the trend god and bow before the fashion
goddess. We journey religiously through the walkways and from store to store, seeking to be shaped and
molded into something we aspire to be. We adore name brands and designer models, looking to be wrapped
in colorful pieces of apparel, hoping perhaps not only to cover our natural nakedness, but to disguise or
affirm our social status. A shopping mall is ultimately a sanctuary where we try to fill up our emptiness, and
attempt to satiate our thirst for meaning. This in spite of knowing that artificial appearance is insatiable and
that true meaning cannot be purchased or found behind a shop window.
| Hispanic Institute of Social Issues © 2006-2011 All rights reserved. webmaster@hisi.org |
| ADVERTISEMENT |
Eduardo Barraza periodista y escritor
mexicano, editor de la revista Barriozona, y
director del Insituto Hispano de Asuntos
Sociales. E-mail: editor@barriozona.com
mexicano, editor de la revista Barriozona, y
director del Insituto Hispano de Asuntos
Sociales. E-mail: editor@barriozona.com
| Photographs by Eduardo Barraza HISI © 2006 |
Published by the Hispanic Institute of Social Issues in Phoenix, Arizona
|
| HISTORY IS ABOUT TO CHANGE Grassroots Journalism |
COMMERCIAL CULT A
shopping mall is an urban
culture temple where we
worship the trend god and bow
before the fashion goddess.
Photo by Eduardo Barraza
shopping mall is an urban
culture temple where we
worship the trend god and bow
before the fashion goddess.
Photo by Eduardo Barraza
