I'm Killing the American Mall

A little while ago, I came across THIS ARTICLE, entitled "Is the American mall dying?"

Based on the recent lagging of discretionary purchases caused by the market downturn, and the resultant declining sales at traditional mall "anchors" like Macy's and J.C. Penney, the author of the article insinuates that yes, yes the traditional American mall is dying. And I have discovered that I am apparently killing it.

I love the mall. I've always loved it - when I was a kid, my mom would take me to our local mall, and we'd walk around and shop a little and eat lunch in a restaurant (because those fancy "food courts" didn't exist yet). When I was a teenager, the mall was one of the few "fun places" that was available to us. If we didn't feel like hanging out at someone's house, then there were basically five options: (1) the mall; (2) the movies; (3) miniature golf; (4) bowling; and (5) whatever cheap restaurant sounded appealing (usually Friendly's or Denny's or a little diner). When a Borders store opened in our town, we were temporarily fascinated with it, too, but eventually realized that hanging out amidst books is kind of boring.

Before I had Weston, I went to the mall to shop and eat, usually as a date-type activity with Tim. Nowadays, I go to the mall as a play-type activity with Weston. Our local mall has a great children's play area, with big colorful animals and structures that kids can climb on, bang on, and run around. Weston LOVES it, especially in that he gets to watch the other kids and follow them around.

So, the mall isn't so much a shopping destination for me now, as an attraction to help pass those between-nap hours and keep Weston entertained. And I almost always do the same thing at the mall:

(1) Arrive and visit the play area, where Weston toddles around, climbs over the big cars, follows some bigger kids around, and inevitably escapes towards the adjacent Claire's.
(2) Collect my child and visit the pet store at the other end of the mall, where Weston giggles at the puppies and bangs on the glass.
(3) Walk back to the elevator, go up to the second floor, and visit Williams-Sonoma (where I will never buy anything, unless I have a gift card, which I do right now, which is great). Maybe, if I'm lucky enough, I'll get to enjoy a food sample there.
(4) Scan the window displays of Baby Central (Baby Gap, Children's Place, Gymboree, etc.) while on my way to See's Candies, where again, I try to score a free sample, but rarely actually buy anything.
(5) Go back down to the first floor, hang out at the play area a little longer, and then leave.

That's my mall itinerary. Sometimes I like to vary it by getting an Auntie Anne's pretzel (only if I have a coupon for a free one), or by sniffing the newest scents at Yankee Candle. But, visiting the mall is a pretty proscribed activity for me. I'm a routine kind of girl.

And this leads me back to the article - how the American mall is dying. Because right now the mall is an attraction for me (the stay-at-home mom looking for interesting activities for my toddler), and not a shopping destination, and because I usually go about once a week, there's really no motivation on my part to spend any money. I'm accustomed to the goods that I see all the time, and besides, a lot of them are overpriced, as compared to our discount big-box retailers. (I'm a devoted follower of the Target/Wal-Mart phenomenon, and FYI, I also visit Target about once a week, not as an attraction as in the case of the mall, but as my shopping destination.)

I feel a little guilty for taking advantage of the mall's amenities and then rarely spending money to support them. I am killing the American mall, and I know this. Macy's and J.C. Penney may be writhing in their death throes right now, but I ignore them, enjoying my free play area, even though I know that their demise would mean the disappearance of said beloved play area. Maybe I should spend money on an Auntie Anne's pretzel every now and then? Or actually venture into a store where I don't have a gift card? In the end, I think my tightfistedness will overcome my feelings of guilt and obligation to support my local mall. Sorry, American mall. I love ya, but I think we'll just play here for now, and then get that thing that I want at Target.