Lauren RabainoI don’t have one particular religion. I can’t say I’m Christian, Jewish, Buddhist or Muslim. You could say I have experimented with the idea of belief; I’ve tried several delicacies from the smorgasbord of religions. But I guess if I had a gun to my head, I would have to worship the retail god of materialism.
He/she is a god who demands fear and respect and has several names. Some call him/her Fendi, some Isaac Mizrahi, some Betsey Johnson, but me, I call him Marc Jacobs.
Suffice to say, this Thanksgiving I expected the sales to top any preceding year. I thought that this would be my salvation. In such a poor economy, I had not set foot into a store in awhile. I imagined designer shirts for $10, purses for pennies, iPods for less than a 1995 Sony Walkman. I scoured the flooded Las Vegas strip for the perfect sale, and all of the inexpensive items I had dreamed up. Sadly, Black Friday was more gray than black. I left with nothing to show for a full day of shopping in heels.
I prayed to Marc Jacobs every night for a week that he could make up for this Thanksgiving’s pitiful excuse for Black Friday. Finally, this month he answered my prayers. I have never seen so many store windows lit up with red signs announcing not just a small sale, but, in some cases, all of the store is on sale.
I perused Higuera Street wide-eyed, jaw dropping. I felt like a kid in a candy store, like a shop-a-holic at a Bloomingdale’s end-of-season sale. Where would I go first?
Then it set in: euphoria. I saw signs with words as tall as me ushering in shoppers with the promise of “60 percent off all sale merchandise” and all I could think about was getting inside before anyone else.
I shopped around, spending a whole lot of money that I don’t actually have on every corner. Of course, at times I was plagued with guilt, but those moments passed. I mean, do I need a new Marc Jacobs purse? No. Do I want a new Marc Jacobs purse? Is that even a real question?
I doubt that there is a person left in this town who hasn’t seen a store go out of business, downsize or offer a too-good-to-be true discount. Are we all being blessed by the materialism gods, or is something less divine at work here?
I mean, maybe it’s all a coincidence and it’s just that Marc Jacobs listened to my desperate prayers, or maybe the businesses in San Luis Obispo are seeing the drawbacks of the failing economy. Either way, I’ll be there, worn-out credit card in hand, and if it is the latter of the two, you can rest assured that I will be downtown doing everything I can to help our struggling businesses.
Rachel Newman is an English junior. “That’s What She Said” takes a fresh and lighthearted look at issues at Cal Poly and in San Luis Obispo.