I’m beginning to understand that one of the benefits of being in a relationship is learning a whole new set of consumer skills. It is no doubt my relative paucity of relationships that has left me unaware of many of the finer things in life.
Like Whole Foods. WF became a phenomenon when I was living in DC, but back then I was living on a graduate student’s salary and the store everyone called “Whole Paycheck” was out of the question. When I started to make a bit more money, I still wasn’t flush, and the closest WF was in another neighborhood, anyway.
Then I moved to New York, and they opened a couple of Whole Foods stores in lower Manhattan. But why shop there? Too expensive, too crowded. Sure, people raved about the produce and the convenient prepared foods, but I’d avoided it thus far and figured I wasn’t really missing much.
But my boyfriend’s studio is near a Whole Foods, so he goes there all the time. Eventually, I went with him — a new stage of intimacy. I mentioned needing shower gel, so he took me to a whole wall of various herbal and organic-type products, many of which were priced for corporate attorneys if not for hedge-fund high rollers. I found several reasonably priced versions, though, including one that smelled really great — it tells me it’s the essence of “woodland pine” and ginseng, I think.
And then my boyfriend insisted on buying me a toothbrush. I am deathly afraid of commitment, but I swallowed my trepidation and allowed it. It wasn’t, of course, an ordinary toothbrush but a giant-headed one, black with yellow bristles. I like the gadgety-ness of it, but I’m not sure it actually does anything more in the way of tooth and gum maintenance than a regular brush. Whole Foods was 1 for 2.
But that was just the beginning. Did you know they sell quite passable pre-made sushi with brown rice? That their vegetables are often fairly priced, such that you can make a satisfying vegetarian meal for 8 for just $25? No one had informed me of these things.
I felt, strangely, like the Eddie Murphy character in that old SNL skit who disguises himself as a white person and discovers that when no black people are around, white people drink champagne on the bus, are given free newspapers, etc. It turns out there’s a whole world of slightly posh shopping out there, a world I can afford to visit from time to time. And that’s not even to mention Trader Joe’s, which I entered for the first time just last week.
See… I think the thing to do with stores like Whole Foods and Trader Joe’s (and, well, Target and CostCo and Ikea too I guess, in a kind of different way) is to shop there a couple of times so you can get over the “shiny new toy” response. They are stores; they don’t really merit either cultishly obsessive response or sneering disdain. Figure out what’s worth while about them and use them for that. I get kind of upset about the way some national chain stores have been turned into cultural-identity touchpoints, so that “shopping at Trader Joe’s” carries all this extra baggage that it can’t really support. For a pretty nuanced treatment of this, take a look at Dorothy’s Donation Derby strips, the subset of them that deal with Trader Joe’s, Whole Foods, and Ikea. (The ones that deal with drinking are great too, but in a different way.)
Oops, that Donation Derby link went to a particular strip; I was meaning to link to the front page. That strip mentions Trader Joe’s, but only in passing.
You know…I clicked on the toothbrush link expecting some high-tech lunacy. This was not high-tech lunacy. Is it comfortable to even grip that thing? I have never seen any toothbrush like it. Is this the new wave of dental hygiene? I hope not. It looks slightly awkward.
And I LOVE the Eddie Murphy skit, “White Like Me.” here is a link to watch the video. Classic!
Sheesh! I’m gonna conquer that always-turning-the-rest-of-the-comment-green thing eventually…
ah the tiny pleasures of domesticity.
lovely.
Dave,
I love how you conceal a ‘we’ve taken it to the next step’ post behind a consumer safari. Congratulations! He bought you a fat toothbrush? You’re in deep!
fat toothbrush
He will bring hygiene in a brush
He’ll scrub away with his silver bristles
And apart from that he’ll be so dumb
In consenting to floss your gums
Ooooh, Trader Joe’s, do tell!
Modesto Kid, you’re so right. And yet, whenever we visited Wild Oats in SLC we used to joke that we were in a little blue state oasis in the middle of a red state.
Jane, you ignorant slut! (Sorry, SNL reference + your name I couldn’t help myself) Hey, the link isn’t working, at least on Firefox. A tear…
“Jane, you ignorant slut” is also one of my favorite SNL moments. What can I say? I’m a fan. Classic SNL, anyway. I also like the landshark. It’s hard to get much better than a shark who disguises himself has a telegram deliverer so that unsuspecting people will open their doors to him.
If you can’t get the link, just go to http://www.hulu.com and type in Saturday Night Live: White Like Me.
Hope that helps!
1: A couple of reasons that I’m somewhat cultish about Trader Joe’s is that, first, it’s way cheaper than regular super markets. And second, they seem to do their best to stock organic and/or fair trade versions of every product that they can.
The only downside is that you need to buy produce (they have produce, but it’s never very good), and some cleaning supplies elsewhere.
Dave, I hope you keep us updated regarding other relationship milestones.
11: Right, I totally understand that Trader Joe’s is a good place to shop for a bunch of things. What bugs me is the way some people (like my parents? At least several years ago this was true of them) flaunt shopping at Trader Joe’s as a badge of identity.
More about the giant toothbrush: It’s comfortable to grip; it even has a thumb rest to ensure optimal gripping angle. But the head is huge, probably three times the area of a regular toothbrush head. That feels weird in my mouth and makes it harder to get to the backs of my back teeth. Also, it brushes a whole lot of teeth at once with pretty soft bristles, rather than just a couple of teeth, so I feel I can’t target my brushing as precisely. On the other hand, maybe it gets places I don’t normally brush. On the other hand, it’s a bit like brushing my teeth with a hairbrush.
It’s always neat to see relationships that enhance a life experience. I suppose, that’s what they are essentially for.
13. it even has a thumb rest to ensure optimal gripping angle.
LOL! Because we all had so many problems maintaining ‘optimal gripping angle’ before the advent of this wunder-feature! I teach product designers and my inner-cynic is always amazed and impressed by the way they continually invent needs I never knew I had.
If I knew you better, I’d tease about a big toothbrush for a big mouth. Maybe you need an oversized typewriter for all your big words… (a teasing smile inserted here)
Dave, as much as I love the idea of you discovering some of the more sybaritic pleasures of domestic adulthood, it’s not exactly as though you were living on grubs and roots before. I mean, you’ve always been a pretty stylish guy.
The eternal grad student in me loves all the free samples at Whole Foods. You can walk around munching on Marcona almonds, organic strawberries, and artisanal 10 year-old cheddar, and no one even bats an eye. And the bulk bins…swoon. Not even Puy lentils break the bank, right?
What other finer things have you happened upon?
Hula to the rescue–thanks Jane!
Where’s Cedric when we need him?
He could make some great toothbrush joke here.
#12 TMK, you are right about identity, but I think that goes for other things aside from stores too. People associate themselves with groups, you always hear: “We are organic”, “We are fat free” “We are colon cleansing” “We are wine drinking” “We are church going” etc. Each group has a set of inferred rules and actions, which no one ever shares, but everyone knows and looks at you (should you be different) either condescendingly (how could you?) or empathetically (feeling sorry for you) – depending on the group. Expressing individuality through a group is a sort of an interesting phenomenon – collective eccentricity, I suppose.
Jane,
It’s actually great that you’re turning everything green; you are spoiling us with not having to aim at words :)
“We are wine drinking”
Speaking of which… thanks for reminding me, I have a nice bottle of cheap wine open, gonna go drink some. (Seems like usually good bottles of wine run about $13, this one was only $8 but is quite palatable. I don’t really know much about wine but I sort of assume the $13 price range is going to be reasonably tasty, so that’s usually what I buy.)
Yep, people totally use characteristics like these to categorize themselves in a bogus manner.
(Hey I am working on composing my premiere TGW post for next week!)
Well, salute to your première post! Can’t wait to read it!
#13 – hmmmmmm. What if this were paragraph were a SNL skit? Ensure optimal gripping angle? Right.
#23 i know. and the references to how BIG this new tooth brush is . . .
there’s a joke in here somewhere.
. . . hmmmmmmm, indeed?!?!
Our sweet little ol’ Davey Barber, all grown up now.
I remember when the first H&M store opened in Washington; Dave suddenly became a shopper / fashion plate. Every time I’d compliment him on his latest sweater or new knit hat, he’d say, “H&M, baby!”
Speaking of knit hats, remember that old yellow one? You still have that thing?
Ah, memories.
I’m getting into this conversation late, and probably everyone has moved on from it, but I just wanted to ask about the relationship between class identity (or do I mean politics, maybe?) and places where we shop. Diss or love Trader Joe’s as you like, one thing that I believe must be said in its defense is that they’ve somehow managed to draw mass appeal across class lines. That is, rich people’s flaunting of the fact that they shop there (and have discovered the most wonderful seven-dollar super-Tuscan ever made!!!!) seems to be just as common as students loving it for its great value over grocery store prices. It’s so dang democratizing.
But Whole Foods, on the other hand, seems much more likely to inspire class consciousness of a sort that is more divisive. At least, that’s my experience. I feel guilty as hell when I splurge on $5/lb. organic honey crisps or $30/lb. Cowboy Creamery cheese and then end up with one small, half-full, canvas shopping bag of stuff that cost me $93. (That would have been a month’s grocery bill in the early days of grad school, not so very long ago.) But my guilt is assuaged by the insecurity I feel when everyone around me seems to be spending $80 on a quick take-away meal for two on a night when they just couldn’t bear to cook after a hard day in court. I get totally dis-class-bobulated when I go there. The store makes me feel like I’m too poor to shop/hang with most of the people who shop there, who are so much cooler and successful than me, and yet seem to share my politics, what with their canvas bags and organic everything and their hybrid cars. I leave TJ feeling like I’m in my proper class zone, regardless of how much I spend. Never so at WF.
I guess I need therapy: “ks, no store can make you feel any particular way. Get out of your head and go home and enjoy your cheese, even if it cost you the price of your monthly electric bill. Enjoy it with a $7 bottle from TJ for balance, if you must. See you next week.”
KS
i don’t think you need therapy,
that seems like a pretty good analysis.
now go enjoy your cheese
I found that yellow hat just the other day while going through a pile of clothes in the back of my closet! I should wash it and start wearing it again.
ks — Whole Foods totally makes me a bit crazy in the heightened-class-consciousness way that you describe. Manhattan Whole Foodses are the worst for this, of course. Everyone seems more stylish, better groomed, taller, younger, and they seem to fill their baskets with only the finest and most exotic items. I tell myself that half of them are just running up credit card balances, and the other half were Ivy League legacy admits, so the best I can do is get out of there with a new bottle of shower gel and my dignity. Somehow my boyfriend is immune to this; he tells me I have “class issues.”
Thanks for the affirmation, Dave. and Lane. And for what it’s worth, I think I mostly started looking at a few particular (addictive) expensive cheeses after reading about them on Adriana’s food blog. And of course I can only find them at Whole Foods.
Oh, and like having “class issues” is a bad thing? Chah.
for a hick like you . . .
it’s totally understandable
; 0 )
(go lakers!)
Dave and KS,
When I was a kid I was tiny and scared and got teased a lot (not complaining, very grateful it happened). But at the time I had to deal with it, so I learned to trust myself about who I was. I learned to look around less, blur my vision, and concentrate on my imagination.
If you catch yourself doing the comparing thing again at the store, stop looking around. Stop comparing how well they are groomed or dressed (I find it hard to believe that you are groomed or dressed any less) and what’s in their baskets– who cares? Buy your cheese, your gel, you giant…dancing hair brush; keep your eyes on the produce and your thoughts on how much you are enjoying browsing around. Trust yourself. Trust your style. Trust that you made a good choice to buy a 30 dollar piece of cheese (you still can pay your electric bill, right?) Trust that you are shopping there because this is what you want and enjoy. I can guarantee you will come out of that shopping experience very pleased and satisfied.
Insecurities are like meaningless love affairs: they cease to exist when you stop caring.
We’re not the only ones thinking about our markets and identity. I took part in a marketing focus group a month or so ago for Fresh N Easy and you could see their struggle to decide between wanting to be the new Bristol Farms or Trader Joes. We had to write down all of the things we think of when we think of (or worse, feel) regarding Trader Joes and this post would have been a perfect reference point.