Macy’s is a kingdom of excess. Towers of brand-name merchandise wind around in a labyrinth of plastic packaging and folded garments. Nowhere will you find a greater testament to consumerism than in the serpentine, tiled pathways of the American department store. Simultaneously structured and chaotic, the aisles of these stores are the grid of veins through which our way of life is sustained: buy, break, discard, repeat. The beating heart of a nation’s greed is the sound of smooth jazz played quietly over an intercom system.
As I made my way down these streets of sales, my eyes slipped from box to box with unfounded desire…
