And Now a Word from Our Sponsors

I'm not actually being paid to write this, though I probably ought to be. Maybe word will get back to some store owner and I'll get a free sample or two by way of thanks (hint, hint).

I have to confess, first of all, that I do my part to keep the American economy strong. Yes, I do like to buy things. And while I wouldn't consider myself a shopaholic--compared to some women (and men!) I know I'm practically an ascetic--I do like to trade my wealth for shiny (and sometimes not so shiny) things. There's something exciting in the search and discovery. Something indulgently daring in the transaction. And when the price and item are right, the moment can be (I admit) fleetingly orgasmic. I don't expect you to understand. I don't understand it. I hate waste, and so much of what is out there is simply waste.

I hate shopping malls for this reason. Department stores are only a lesser evil. Mostly, it's the wastefulness, but I deplore crowds and parking lots also, and such venues involve both. Often it's the parking lots that are crowded, forcing me to park at the bottom of the least shaded hill in the area, at least a mile from any usable entrance. Malls would be much better if they were only built for me.

When I first found myself in second spaces, I was immediately drawn to the shopping opportunities it provided. It was a fresh field, full of creativity and innovation. Finding something wearable amidst all the slut-wear was an acceptable level of challenge. Even the lag and the occasional crashed sim were far better than a long wait at the cash register behind a pack of mall rats.

Now that I've built up my artificial wardrobe, however, I don't have the pressing need to buy things. I still get ideas for things my avi "needs," but truthfully I've got enough digi-wear to cloth myself for weeks without having to wear the same thing twice. Now I find myself being a bit more selective when I go shopping. If I'm going to buy someone else's stuff, it had better look good on me.

Moreover, I find that I'm more likely to stick around (and come back to) those places that are memorable or moving. Naturally, the final word in an avi-cessory is its quality. But increasingly I find myself equally interested in the quality of the space that the thing is sold in. What effect this has on my likelihood of actually buying something is not something I know. I'm also not really sure what exactly makes up a good space; I just know that it resonates with me somehow.

This isn't about the fashions these stores promote; there's plenty written about that elsewhere. Here are some of my recent favorite shopping places:

• Luminosity: There's so much I like about this space. The wood and stone textures are warm and inviting, suggesting more backstory than this personal island could possibly have. Angles, arches, and transparency combine to create an open space that has an approachable scale. I hate having to fly to browse a store's wares. Instead, here I can wander from corner to corner, each a semi-intimate nook, admiring the clothing without feeling I'm in anyone else's way. An incongruous selection of posters (butterflies and... Elvis!) break up the spaces between the for-sale objects. Also, it bears mention that this is one of the few stores where I've actually sat down on the benches provided. They call out to be used, rather than an afterthought that you have to walk around. You do have to your step, however: there's a virtual Roomba!
• Casa del Shai: This is a smaller store on the Mainland, which is a respectable acheivement, considering how that limits the control a designer has over the space as well as the area surrounding it. Again, the wood textures throughout the store draw me in. I like that there are separate men's and women's sections--it makes it easier to find what you're looking for. What I like best, however, is the fact that this store is small. Standing in the entrance, I can take in just about the entire line at a glance. Stores don't need to be big to sell a wide range of material. Casa del Shai is proof of that.

...to be continued...

Aly Time

February has been a crazy month for me in that other game we call life. As a result I'm going to be away for a few days to recharge my spirit, without computer access, if I can help it.

It just dawned on me that the SL world is flat. Columbus would have been screwed.

A New Discovery...

I visited The Lost Gardens of Apollo upon the recommendation of a friend, and it is another delightful find. It's exquisitely constructed in a sort of Persian style natural garden rather than Hellenistic as the name would imply (but it's not an important detail). The craftsmanship here is top notch and is definitely a place you could relax, reflect, or carry on a quiet conversation. There's a good mix of public and semi-private spaces, which leaves open the possibility (or not) for interactions with other people.

Wandering around the island, I began to wonder about the notion of personal space as it exists here in SL. I encountered others, and unless I was talking to them, I noticed that I kept my distance, as much out of social habit, I guess, as anything else. But how close is too close, I wonder?

Does our need for personal space derive from our need for emotional spaces? There seems to be a connection. I know that when I want mental quiet, I gravitate towards those places that are less likely to be full of people, places where I won't be intruded upon.

It would be an interesting experiment to just go up to random people and park your avatar right next to theirs and see their reaction.

It's all in your head.

We can't replace our real lives with our second ones yet. It seems obvious, but I became aware of this in the past few weeks as RL work, RL deadlines, RL people, RL play, and RL drama kept me out of their SL counterparts. Even if I wanted to submerge into the virtual sea, I couldn't. SL doesn't put food in my mouth. The heat from the laptop isn't the same as the warmth of a lover's touch. I can't smell the rain or diesel exhaust.

A laggy sim and a nagging mother are about an even trade, however.

Anyway, the primary has taken over the secondary, and so I've been absent. Subsequently, my initial quest has ground to a halt, but it hasn't been fruitless. Just the other day, while sitting in a sim thinking about what to write for this blog I met another person on her own mission: she was photographing birds she found. I can't tell you how excited I was by this.

It's not that I'm interested in birds at all. In RL as well as SL, they are simply part of the landscape to me. Honestly, I pay more attention to rocks than I do birds. But this individual's self-imposed quest is beautiful because it defies the system. She's making her own rules. One might respond, "Well, that's the beauty of SL. You can make your own rules." That's true of life, too, but how many of us actually do that? The set rules of Second Life seem to be:

1. Make an avatar
2. Make some friends
3. Buy some land
4. Make/design something

These are the things you're supposed to do. As Kieres said in a comment to the previous post, if you are the sort of person who doesn't do these things, SL can be quite empty. Certainly there are friendships, but what grounds the self in such an ever-mutating world? What actually are you befriending? If there's no sense of purpose behind the avatar, then any relationship hardly seems substantive.

Real Life beckons, but this seems to part of a discussion taking place here, too. Who are we? More to the point, why are we?

And yes, mom, I'm okay, even though I haven't called in a week.