Enticing a dollar

As Christmas draws ever closer, let's pause from our shopping to consider the places and spaces in which we spend. Sociologist Nick Perry treads a few well-worn paths with Shane Gilchrist.

Nick Perry
Nick Perry
In an age of electronic transactions, it might seem a little "old-school" to suggest tills will ring over the next few weeks.

However, that detail aside, a rise in consumerism this month is as inevitable as young (and perhaps not so young) children waking before 6am on Christmas Day.

Exactly how much will be spent is unclear. According to a recent Dun & Bradstreet survey, New Zealand consumers are trying to spend within their means this Christmas. As to precisely when people will shop, figures from Paymark (which processes about 75% of the country's electronic transactions) over the past two years show most people have been leaving much of their buying until the three days before Christmas.

Yet what influences our urge to splurge?

Auckland-based sociologist Nick Perry has thought deeply about this subject.

The former president of the Sociological Association of Australia and New Zealand has released various weighty, academically-inclined publications over the years. In his most recent book, Ruling Passions, Perry dedicates approximately 10,000 words to an essay on the subject of shopping, examining both our propensity to consume, as well as the places and spaces in which we do so.

For the purposes of this article, the range of shopping experiences has been limited to three locations: the department store, the shopping mall and the supermarket, chosen on the basis that, at this time of year in particular, each hosts no small measure of customers.

  • Ruling Passions: essays on just about everything is published by Otago University Press ($45).


The department store

Women are the dominant sex in the department store, more than a century after such multifaceted shops were first introduced in New Zealand's urban centres (Smith & Caughey's was founded in 1880 in Auckland; Kirkcaldie & Stains in 1863 in Wellington; Ballantynes in 1854 in Christchurch; and Arthur Barnett in 1903 in Dunedin).

"Historically, women in our society are more adept at shopping; at the time when consumer culture really got rolling, it was women who were charged with the responsibility for it. When men go shopping, quite typically they know in advance what they want to buy and often they are slightly intimidated by the idea of shopping, whereas for women comparative shopping is almost a pleasure," Perry says.

"Part of the extraordinary appeal of the department store was the promise it provided. It provided you with the whole world. The origins of the department store, in 19th-century Paris, in particular, were about bringing the world to the consumer."

Significantly, the interaction and negotiation between shop owner and customer, an age-old process of marketplace haggling, banter even, has largely been replaced by what Perry describes as an "orchestration of seductiveness". 

In short, the department store is concerned with selling itself and it does that best through the range of goods it offers. It also facilitates browsing; in doing so, in slowing down customers, it thus enables its staff to browse store-goers (ever felt you have been stalked in the furniture section?).

Historically, department stores have been located near city centres, their large windows offering a glimpse into seductive confines.

And note the contrast between the shop's window and its interior, Perry points out.

"The window is obviously the initial device but once you are in the department store itself, then what is striking is the relative absence of windows; you can look in from the street but you can't see out from the store.

"In almost any department store on the planet, you go into the ground floor and you are faced with the cosmetics and perfume sections. That is quite crucial. The return from that section of the store is higher, so it is almost a universal device by which department stores consolidate their position."


The shopping mall

Building on the all-in-one vibe of the department store, a shopping mall offers an enhanced sense of place, Perry says.

Often located in the suburbs of cities (but not always - Dunedin is a notable exception; as are various upmarket malls such as Sydney's Queen Victoria Building with its plethora of boutique fashion stores), a shopping mall incorporates the idea of travelling, usually by car because the parking is often free when shopping.

In regard to suburban malls, the historical design is for one anchor store - though some have more - augmented by a range of smaller specialty shops.

Perry describes the shopping mall as "an orderly disorder", a synthesis of leisure and consumption in which strolling, play and even the carnevalesque rub shoulders.

"The forms of display become ever more elaborate in order to draw people in, he says, pointing to supersized examples such as Canada's West Edmonton Mall, which has more than 800 shops, provides more than 20,000 jobs and can attract between 60,000 and 150,000 people a day depending on the season. It has creches, cinemas, fairground rides, swimming pools, even a sea lion park.

"All of those things are forms of consumption. And if you're consuming an event rather than a commodity, then it can be sold over and over.

"That notion of widening the range or the idea of what a commodity is, that is part and parcel of what shopping malls are all about.

"What was once a no-nonsense activity now becomes a leisure location. The longer you are kept in a place, the more likely you are to buy a cup of coffee as well as commodities for the home or whatever.

"The longer they have you in there, the better their chances."


The supermarket

How does an intended five-minute stop at the supermarket for a few basics turn into a foray lasting at least double that? Well, next time you're in one, take a look around. If you can see a clock, then that store is an exception to the rule.

"The absence of clocks in supermarkets is something quite deliberate," Perry says.

To the same end, if there are windows, they will often be near the checkout area.

"The supermarket is fenced in; there is this sense of an enclave; there is nothing to distract you from the goods on the shelves - apart from other goods on the shelves."

Ever felt slightly strange when passing by those queuing at the checkouts having not bought anything?

The shopping trolleys and baskets at the entrance, the checkouts as an obligatory point of passage, the ordered (and order of) shelving, are tantamount to directions; they signal an expected form of activity, Perry says.

Though the option remains of "just looking", as per other modes of shopping, it is, in effect, constituted as "deviant", both through the supermarket's pattern of spatial organisation and the social expectations of its employees, with the most salient distinction being between those who carry baskets and those who push trolleys (i.e. you either buy a little or a lot).

The location of staple commodities, too, is significant. Want bread or milk? Well, you might have to negotiate various aisles before you find one.

"The interesting thing about supermarkets is how they succeed in getting you to do some of the work.

"Then they set it up in certain ways. The meat is lit is such a way that it looks particularly rich and red; likewise fresh produce is lit in a way designed to enhance colour."


 

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