Editor’s Note: Readers, brace yourself for a tangential story, a tracing of what I call “breadcrumbs of discovery.” Maybe it’s the weather. Maybe it’s the air. I’ve been in a nonlinear thinking state of mind in the past week and have been totally lacking in well-packaged, conclusive posts. The result? The end of this little journey is merely a question, a point of wonderment. But all who wander are not lost, so you’ll just have to bear with me until something better comes along.

Today was gorgeous, so after a morning interview in the city, I decided to meander through downtown San Francisco and get a $5 facial. Pretty awesome, if you ask me. I even kept my wallet on lock. I cut up a credit card last night, of which I am very proud. And did I mention I got a facial for $5? Thank you, Future Professional friend at San Francisco Institute of Esthetics and Cosmetology.

Before treating myself to lunch with a beautiful view, I had to stop by the new Aritzia store in the San Francisco Shopping Centre. Aritzia has been on my radar since high school because:

1. When I was searching for a dress for Senior Ball in high school I found exactly what I wanted on their online store. But they are from Canada. And I wasn’t in a position where I could convince my parents to let me buy a dress from a Canadian Website.
2. In my Global Economics course at Cambridge (high school summer program), one of my study groups had the task of designing a business plan for an online store. (I think the Internet was still new and fancy then. Otherwise, who would assign three girls to make a business plan for a fashion label in the name of Global Econ?) We decided we would set our store apart from the others by commissioning trendy artists to draw on our bags and packaging. Aritzia did just that! Plus they have a blog. Is every fashion outfitter going to have a blog now? What’s Abercrombie and Fitch going to post? Michael Phelps’ abs? Can’t say I’d complain about that. A&F should totally pay me for that endorsement plan. But oh wait, they won’t, cause they hate Asians. *snap* (Defend them if you want to, but I still won’t walk in there.)
   

Anyway, when I walk into trendy stores these days, I hug the walls as soon as I enter. I try to avoid salespeople no matter how helpful they are (And the Aritzia girls are really, really helpful.) because I just don’t want to spend. I don’t want to get suckered into trying more things that might actually fit. On this day, hugging the left side of the wall made my eyes land directly on the most fabulous thing in the store – a pair of Rock & Republics with purple and blue crystals and embroidery. The detail work looks like an 80s roller rink logo, and I totally want that type of stuff complementing my ass. They’re totally awesome!

Then I looked at the price tag. We’ve come a long way since gold miners wore their rugged Levi Strauss’ until the ends of their days: dirtied, frayed, and faded. I’m afraid a lot of shopping stories end this way, with the “But it’s just a pair of jeans/graphic tee/polka dot headband!”

What the Hell, man? How have we convinced ourselves that our want is close enough to a need that we might drop $80, $100 – or in the case of these R&Rs – $350 on body drapery? Aside from the whole exclusivity argument, of creating notions of class via overpricing merchandise, what the fuck?

Sometimes I think marketing minds are thinking “So how many times can we ask a customer to give up their proverbial first born for jeans? An iPhone? A Swarovski-encrusted car?”

I can remember the time when, for four years spanning high school into college, I owned only one pair of jeans. They cost $15 and I bought them from Nordstrom Rack. They are Sergio Valente denim constructed with a sheen of pink thread as the secondary color to blue, and they get as many compliments as my more-than-$15 pants. During those four years I either wore nice pants or sweat pants, and I didn’t feel incomplete at all about not owning any jeans to stretch the style void in between the two extremes of Dressy and Casual.

Now, though, now stuff that catches my eye also chokes up half a month’s rent.

I wish I felt better about walking around naked.