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:
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.
Comments
I can second Ms. Alyia's endorsement of Casa del Shai's layout, from the "other" perspective. As a (usually!) male shopper, I appreciate it being instantly obvious where the menswear is. That's a rare, rare treat; normally finding the tiny little mens' department involves a lot of pointless wandering around. 'Shai is separate-but-equal, with well-delineated spaces.
I'll note that there is a technical reason for so many stores to have large, empty, undecorated spaces: prim limits are by square meter of floor space, roughly speaking. My hat's off to those stores willing to make that difficult trade of form over function.