Bring Macy’s Your Huddled Masses

Nothing like a trip to the mall to remind me why I rarely go there.

After being in Macy’s for all of about 2 minutes, I was hailed by a salesman with a flyer. He was so far away from me, however, that all I heard above the babble of that 3-story synthetic castle was the word “freakin’”. Freakin’? What was he trying to sell me?! I felt like running.

I recoiled into the racks of lime, mustard yellow and magenta safari-print dresses, making sure I wasn’t being followed. Hunting for anything modest and unassuming, anything I could wear to a wedding without looking like a gaudy plastic flower. Unbeknownst to me, this afternoon Macy’s was hosting Clinton Kelly and his show Make Over America. Clinton Kelly recently wrote a book titled Freakin’ Fabulous. Actually – FREAKIN’ FABULOUS. Apparently the salesman had tried to tell me earlier that I could take home a copy of the book with a $100 purchase.

As I stumbled dazedly through the displays, Clinton Kelly’s bright-red book confronted me. Unavoidable. He caught me. The subtitle offered to teach me “How to Dress, Speak, Behave, Eat, Drink, Entertain, Decorate and [as if this wasn't enough!] Generally Be Better Than Everyone Else.” Wow. Wow. Yet the promises of comprehensive elegance contrast sharply with the word “FREAKIN’”.

Clinton may be able to teach me how not to “look like hell” and thus increase my chances of being deemed “fabulous,” but I could teach him how not to write stupid and euphemistic book titles.

I’m sorry – I really don’t like the mall. I have nothing against fashion, but everything against our culture’s shallow and materialistic messages about “fabulousness.” Ironically the etymological roots of the word “fabulous” date to the 15th Century Latin word “fabuloso,” meaning “celebrated in fable.” Examples of fabulous things: griffin, pygmy, manticore, Jabberwock, Lilliput. These are also examples of unreal things.

I avoid the mall because, from end to end, I am hounded with the lie that I can attain an unreachable standard. I can achieve a photo-shopped look that is in fact nonexistent. I can realize some amorphous ideal called Fabulousness (for which, according to the FF Amazon.com product description, “the huddled masses yearn”) -

With a $100 purchase.