If You Can Think It

#219: You can buy it

This thing with the US that constantly amazes me is the overwhelming sense of consumerism that hits you as soon as you step into your nearest neighborhood store. The nearest neighborhood store, of course, is a huge mall with over a hundred stores each with a fabulous display. You don't know whether to start admiring the creativity of the display, the imagination of the design, the profitability of the venture or the susceptibility of the consumer once exposed to such stimuli.

I think that in America, if you can think it, you can buy it. It is available out there somewhere - in some outlet, or supermall, or specialty store. This can be both good and bad. My aunt here just purchased a 20-year old house a few years ago and turned it little by little, piece by piece, into this gasp-inspiring catalogue-worthy house with showroom-level interiors. My brother told me stories about how they would spend weekends with my uncle, aunt and the kids painting the walls, how he and my aunt would drive to some far-flung outlet to get the last existing stock of some decor that they've marked down, how they would absorb catalogue looks by heart and recreate that using similar but more reasonably-priced pieces. It's like this treasure hunt or this big project. But the thing is, everything was doable given the budget that they set. Because here in America, if you can think it, you can buy it at price levels that go from high to reachable.

I am also constantly impressed with how most of the establishments we've come across here would have some sort of theme that they translate to the littlest of details. This confectionery store has chairs made of mosaic tiles that are the same color as their signage, interiors, staff uniforms. No detail was left untouched by their overarching old green and antique gold theme in French style setting. There's a car wash that's modeled after a New Orleans steamboat, complete with ice cream parlour while you wait for you car. It's almost as if you are required to be transported to and immersed in their make-believe world on their terms whether you like it or you like it.

My brother pointed out to me the dream place he wants to live in. It's called Santana Row and it is reminiscent of Greenbelt but on a level that Greenbelt cannot reach because Greenbelt is in the Philippines and Santana Row is in the US. (And in the US, if you can think it, you can buy it.) The place is a stellar example of the "manufactured" world. It's practically in the middle of the desert or some abandoned field; but because the buildings, the planters, the road islands, the sidewalk benches and entrance arches were crafted seemingly in homage to Universal Studios, you know you are in a place that demands to be seen as special. I like it but I don't. I like it because it is extremely pretty but I don't, exactly for the same reason. There is a noticeable absence of little marks of authenticity. It was as if the atmosphere - even the air you breathe while in there - is bought, brand new and shiny.

Today, we went bridal gown hunting. I have this dress in mind which is more a blurry collage of 8 pretty things I've come across than a solid idea. I've gone to around 11 stores (6 in California, around 5 in Sydney) before stumbling on this one which had the closest version of the dress I wanted at a price that's so much more reasonable than the first one I was quoted in Sydney a few months ago (yeah, in the store with staff that looked at me like I was some crazy, delinquent procrastinator when I told them that I had only started gown hunting in January for an October wedding. "Gasp! You're a bit late for it, aren't you?"). I've talked to two designers in Manila and they both said it can be done even with just one or two fittings in June and another one just days before the wedding. They said it can be done, but I don't trust them. I am not confident that they can convert my vision into something that is acceptable in reality... And so, I bought this one off the rack. There was more comfort in knowing that someone had already manufactured something close to the gown I had been thinking of. As I said, in the US, if you can think it, you can most likely buy it.

While walking on the streets of SF, I stopped dead on my tracks in front of one of the flower stores. There they were - the pink cherry blossoms I wanted for my table decorations at our wedding reception. A few steps back was a store that sold those huge clear vases that they will perfectly be put into. It was right out of the sketch I made for the florist. Again, if you can think it, you can buy it.

No wonder a lot of people spend most of their lives here just working, working, working. Working to pay off debts. Working to purchase pretty stuff. Working to acquire more manufactured dreams. Working to manage increasing debts that come along with all the pretty manufactured things. Working to the detriment of real lives with real people and real relationships. There are just too many things you can think of, all of which, you can buy. Well, all except the things you give up to get them.