That said, I have to admit, I get kind of excited about the (partially) wooden escalators on the upper floors of Macy’s:
I bring up Macy’s because I made a pilgrimage there not long ago. Now, Macy’s is the sort of place that I would normally avoid at all costs, but, having gotten my stimulus check and considered it at length, I finally decided to use part of it for a pair of long-coveted Frye boots.
So, I figured I’d go to Macy’s, try on all the boots, and then go home and buy them at off-season sale price on Amazon or ebay.
Once I got to wandering around Macy’s, however, I got distracted from my mission. Because Macy’s decor is really elaborately weird. First of all, I’m pretty sure they’re actually intentionally matching the clothes to the light fixtures:
Then, there were the mannequins. At first, I mostly noticed the weirdly futuristic spring-themes (it was spring at the time). There were metallic mannequins dancing in the rain:
And lounging with giant gold praying mantises:
And forming symbiotic relationships with smaller praying mantises:
But around the time I came across this young lady on her horse:
. . . I started to notice that all of the mannequins looked…dejected. I mean, here’s this lovely woman astride (or atop) a white horse in the middle of a forest of brightly colored cocktail dresses, with starburst light fixtures framing her head, and she just looks like all the Prozac in the world couldn’t truly get her back in the saddle again.
There were sad mannequins everywhere:
Except the more I looked at them, the more they looked pissed, rather than sad:
Yeah, actually. They were really pissed. And there were lots of them.
They were pissed off in droves. It began to get a little intimidating. I started to feel they were closing in slowly.
These Pepto-Bismal-boobed ones are so very pissed that you can tell they’re pissed without their even having faces to express it! (Possibly their personal praying-mantis-hair-accessories had turned on them and scratched off all their features.)
And it wasn’t just the nipply anorexics in the junior’s department and the terminators in the misses’ section that were spitting furious – the kids were pissed, too! In fact, they may have been the most pissed of all:
What the hell are you looking at?
I would not want to run into these children late at night.
You’re in our hood now.
These kids freaking hate Macy’s shoppers.
I will cut you.
I listened to Tatum O’Neal there, and beat it. Anyway, Macy’s didn’t end up having any Frye boots (and in case you’re curious, in the end I couldn’t bring myself to pay that much for a pair of boots and ended up getting a pair of Steve Madden ones from Amazon for under $50 – they’re a little too big, but with two pairs of socks, I think they’ll be just the ticket).
Shoe carnage.
