
On Sunday March 26, we ventured into the
Fashion Center at Pentagon City in search of provocative social interaction. This mall, like most across the nation, is a center that displays many of the important cultural attributes of a community. The products stores sell, the people who gather there, and the food they eat can all provide for commentary that is both startling and repulsive. Yet, we could not help but find that we are also apart of this social structure centered around a warped vision of beauty, wealth, and indulgence.
Once at the fashion center, we watched the high school students hanging out while chowing down a McDonald's hamburger, mothers bringing their children to see the Easter Bunny, and young adults laden with bags of clothing for their already overstuffed closets. As we observed our surroundings, we realized that a site is not always as important as the people who maintain and fill its depths. By the conclusion of our day, our little adventure developed into not a search for a mall, but for the implications and ideology that such a place represented.
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An
oasis in a city. Lift your eyes toward the skies and see the transparency through which we live.

Here we are greeted by Guest Services. But notice this station that offers comfort when in need, yet there is an absence of guidance for the little shoppers who scurry and climb. They must find their own way in the midst of being quartered by options.
People moving up and down through the layers above the ground. Seeking that which they desire while ever reaching precariously higher.
Sale, precious Sale! What a sign to desire. We rush in to try on the clothes we wish to acquire. What a lie so well designed to make us think we are saving when we are just wasting the product of hours spent slaving.
What to wear, what to wear? Why the hell should I care, as long as there are shoes on my feet and a shirt on my back. But not in this world where possessions determine the value of a life. Here one must pursue fashion alongside strife.
The winner I chose, or so I suppose. After carelessly wasting half of my daypawing through racks in every store along my way.
Now I've left the treasure box and realize my hunger as I pass through the cafeteria my stomach growls like thunder. But what choice should I make when all the food I see is fake?

A burger I do crave but the consequence I know is grave. A finger down my throatto maintain the perfection necessary to stay afloat. For the society which we dwell in today demands us to distort ourselves in such a way.
The store fronts I pass by, reinforce this perception. Magazines have been created since before my conception, to mold young minds to obsess and destroy any confidence we had, ah hell- it's just a ploy!
These souls yet untouched and unphased carry on playing. They know not what comes with a society decaying. Its guts and the gore drip into their cupped hands, as the warped needs of their mentors grow and expand.
Arms laden with bags, no strength does remain. The battle is halted, we are blinded and contained. My pockets are empty- please don't steal my lint. Gone is my view of the world through a rose-colored tint.