Such was the case yesterday, when I met up with Meg. In order to stop ourselves from fizzling in the sun, we decided, against our better judgment, to forego sneaking into a reservoir for the fifth day in a row and make our way up to an institution that, normally, I stay away from at all costs...a mall. Now, this mall is no ordinary let's-group-a-bunch-of-stores-together-in-a-recycled-air-back-pain-instigating-family-ripping-linoleum-covered-hell...oh no. It is much, much more than that. A leviathan, a colossus of a complex, riddled with everything from the biggest, most mall-smelling (they seriously have a certain smell) department stores to the tiny avant garde outlets to the weird hippie-chic places you don't really find anywhere else. Granted, there are probably many malls out there like this, but I have not come across them. So for me, this one was like climbing around Cronos in God of War.
Yeah, I went there.
We walked in, greeted by a blast of cool air. Our eyes adjusted to the dimmer lighting, our ears were filled with the sound of laid back elevator music-esque tunes, and that smell–that clean, milky smell of the mall (does no one else notice that?!?!)–filled our brains to the brim. As we were sort of...how you say...not the typical girls you would see perusing the pastel coloured racks of fluttery, feminine tops, we felt a little out of place. A few 'what the hell?' looks were cast in our direction as people spotted the altered ACDC t-shirt with the hand cut and woven, spindly back, and another one of Meg's oh-so-Megly outfits consisting of an off the shoulder...thing and cargo pants.
We OWNED the place.
[ In order to display our ferocity, we undertook a small psychological experiment-The Eye Contact Trial.
What does that entail, you ask? I would be glad to tell you.
Now, meeting a person's eyes is, in my opinion, one of the most animalistic things us humans do, particularly if that person is a stranger. It's how we gauge one another. We make a mental, if relatively unconscious note in our heads about them, whether they're scientifically a good match for us, if we should avoid them, what type of person they are based on clothes/socioeconomic status, culture, anything. It's just inventory. We judge, not necessarily based on character, but just biologically how we react to them. It's how were wired to work.
Once eye contact is established, there are a number of things you can do, because either way, people size each other up and roles are going to be assigned. For example, you can continue to stare the other person directly in the eyes, which, in the animal world, is usually a sign of aggression or intimidation. The first person to look away automatically assumes the submissive role, and the weird staring person becomes more dominant. This main limb of decision making can branch off into several other courses of action, because your facial expression also counts. If you smile, they could feel reassured. If you scowl or glare, they'll spend the next twenty minutes talking about 'that girl who grilled me', and if you keep your face as expressionless and cool as the other side of the pillow...well you're just a mystery. An intimidating mystery at that.
So we pretty much flung a combination of these things together and watched how it played out.
Very interesting results. ]
As we strolled around we took in the other mall-goers. We saw a guy with the same shirt on as me, and we therefore dubbed him Shirt Buddy. He had an interesting walk, with an arched back and slumped shoulders, almost as if he was carrying a bomb strapped to his lower back. It fascinated us as we picked at spicy orange chicken (Justin Johnson would have been proud). We speculated about the nature of a person's being based on the type of brown shoes he wore, and watched the strangely attractive pseudo-guido...jock, pistol whipping kind of guys talk a few seats behind us. People passed and we commented on their character based entirely on their appearance. Not necessarily in a mean way...it was more of a 'Oh look at that guy in the Star Wars t-shirt...he's a sweet dude. Oh, metro European dude over there, yeah. He's smirking. He knows what's up.'
But it was still snap judgment based on nothing but the three seconds of non-interaction we had with each person.
It did spark something creative though...!
Some More Mall Goers:
- A very stylish man with a deeeeeeep v neck t-shirt. A DEEP V-neck. Intensity.
- A group of obviously high teenagers, one named Nick, all wearing sports jerseys and hats cocked ever so jauntily at 2 o'clock.
-The petite ninja-cop who busted them. This dude had a face of stone and the expression of a sensei.
-Fro-Man. His hair was taller than me.
-A gaggle of extremely insecure teenage girls who kept fussing with their hair and looking around like the crew from America's Next Top Model was going to ambush and judge them at any second.
All of this made Meg yearn for a piece of paper and a place to sit, just so we could insta-sketch the people walking by.and make fleeting representations
We also realized that, at least for us, being 14 was absolutely horrendous. In the best way.
Oh, and LUSH gave us multiple nasal orgasms.
That is all.
Actually, it's not. Sorry. But I've decided to post a song quote at the end of every post. Take it as you will.
'The characters are like mirrors facing mirrors'
-Glassjaw, Siberian Kiss
-Glassjaw, Siberian Kiss
