Target Is Like Crack

Shopping at Target is the equivalent of most middle class, suburban moms doing crack. I don’t know a mom around who doesn’t get the same longing, excited, forbidden fruit look on her face when you mention that you just went to Target, as a crack addict might have when you say you have a hit for them out in the alley. We all do it. We never admit to our husbands how much we spend or the crap we decide we must have because it only cost $3.99. But just like crack, it makes you feel so good when you’re in the middle of it. Not that I’ve done crack, I’m just guessing based on it's continued popularity.

You easily justify buying a new set of sheets because they were at the end of the aisle (which all savvy Target shoppers know the end of the aisle items are "buys"), stacked so beautifully in all the pretty colors, and only $20. Where else can you get a whole set of queen sized sheets for only $20 for God‘s sake?? The fact that you have a perfectly good set of sheets at home is really beside the point when you’re standing there and the big, red $19.99 is looming over your head as if to say you’re a sucker if you don’t buy these fantastically priced new sheets that come in their very own carrying case (even though you know good and well you will never use the carrying case for anything, ever). So in one hand motion, you lob them into the oversized, lightweight, easy to push red cart.

When I was a kid, I remember the Target in our town. It was not somewhere you shopped unless you couldn’t afford otherwise. The aisles were cramped, the shelves were sparse and it had a certain stigma. They carried a brand that I never see anymore called Garanimals. It was a brilliant line of kids’ clothes where the tags were different colors and if you matched a pair of pants with a blue alligator tag with a shirt with a blue alligator tag, the outfit matched. I begged my mom to take me there to get Garanimals, begged her. She refused to buy my clothes at Target. I recently asked some of my friends if their moms shopped there to just make sure mine wasn’t just a snob and they said the same thing "No, she wouldn’t shop there, I was desperate for Garanimals." My have times changed…and for the better I might add.

Whoever does the marketing for Target are geniuses. Really. They should be given the task of figuring out how to stop global warming or provide health care for everyone.  In a very few years they took a "discount" store and made discount incredibly cool. I think it started with bringing in designers like Isaac Mizrahi and Liz Lange to produce reasonably (aka cheap) priced lines with their same designer" attractiveness. Americans love our designer clothes. Their advertising was where they really did a number on our psyche. They began producing high quality, beautifully shot commercial and print ads that stick with you and they run 24/7. Bam, out of nowhere, Target was not only on the map, they became the only game in town.

It’s now a given that it’s the go-to place to buy our staples like white T’s, underwear, work out clothes, kid’s bathing suits. Not to mention, tampons, diapers and small kitchen appliances. But furthermore, it’s a real rush when someone says, "Hey, I love that sweater," and you get to say "Target, $17.99." Their knowing nod afterward is such satisfaction. It somehow makes the $17.99 seem like even more of a bargain if that is even possible.

That leads me to this week when my kids were out of school and the potential toppling of my Target shopping love affair. Long days, bored kids, you know the drill. I was down to the diaper that my two year-old was wearing and out of other various Target like items, so I decided to take the kids there to kill the morning. On my way, I look at the clock and realize we’ve gotten a late start and it’s going to be lunchtime soon. I ask them if they’d like to have lunch at Target. As the words come out of my mouth, I can hear my mother’s blood running cold. What’s the big deal, they have Pizza Hut? They all three, in unison say, "Yes, yea, lunch at Target!" Not even I anticipated that response.

So we order, and as I’m waiting for the food I glance at the tables and there isn’t a single one that has been cleaned all week is my best guess. Please note that I am not a germophobe AT ALL, so imagine the condition of these tables that would give me pause. I clean off one and do my best to not look at the napkin again because after the first go over, I noticed the brown residue off of the table when I glanced at it.  My daughter and I have Pizza Hut pizzas. Normally you have the stringy, cheesy goodness from a Pizza Hut indulgence, but just suffice it to say that these had been under the heat lamp for a while. My kids didn’t seem to care one bit though. They swiveled in their chairs and ate and ate and ate, to the point that I considered making this a weekend staple in our routine. That is…until the last bite of my coveted pepperoni pizza. There, I felt in my mouth…a hair. I couldn’t decide if I was more upset that it had been my last bite or if it had been my first bite. But regardless, it made me look around and for a minute I noticed the Icee machines and the trash piled on top of the trash can and the spilled coffee drink residue on the counter from the dripping machine and felt a little dirty like my mom would have tried to describe to me about shopping there.

But I’m proud to say, as any devoted crack addict, I piled my kids in the fabulous oversized, lightweight, easy to push red cart with the kid seats where you can strap them right in and didn’t let those negative Target thoughts cloud my head. I’ve always tried to live by the notion that if my mom said it, it’s probably best to do or feel the opposite, and therefore I was not going to be derailed by a little hair. I proceeded to look at every bathing suit, summer dress, sports bra and cleaning supply they had to offer. The power of Target in 2010 prevailed to the tune of $257. And all (all meaning me) were happy for a minute.

Author: Shari Dabby