Outlets: The Real Deal

Anthony and I had an experience yesterday that involved going back to my roots and explaining some of my irrational shopping expectations.

I’ve never really liked shopping, at least as a past-time. I remember one of my friends in high school asking me if I wanted to “hang out at the mall” with him... And do what? Is there anything you absolutely have to buy? If not, why would you actually choose to be in a place like that? I went anyway, and it was kind of weird. We didn’t really do anything. We looked around in some shops and ate pizza in the food court. (Hmmm. The fact that this was so boring to me, probably means that I was the weird one. I'll save that for another post.)

In the Ellsworth family, shopping was different. Clothing shopping, for instance, was not a frequent or even an occasional social event. It was a once a year marathon at the Outlets. Now, my use of the term “outlet” needs clarification. I mean real factory outlets. Places where clothing companies sell their irregulars or surplus for insanely cheap prices. My frugal hopes have been dashed again and again as I’ve realized that many normal strip malls call themselves outlets, but don't have the same deals.

I don’t know why, but my home town is surrounded by these ‘real’ outlets. I remember going on trips to the Danskin outlet in York with some ballet friends. It was kind of a rundown building, something between a warehouse and a garage, but you could find leotards that would otherwise be sold for 30 bucks for just a couple. The $1 rack was the best. Maybe the fabric would be mismatched, or the legs of pants uneven, but hey! ONE DOLLAR! Yes, this is my kind of shopping.

That brings us to Reading PA. That’s right. Like the Monopoly Reading Railroad (And just to clarify it’s pronounced Redding). This is outlet country, and the best in the area are the Vanity Fair Outlets: 450,000 square feet of giant blocky factory buildings transformed into a bargain hunter’s heaven, a recovering shopaholics hell. Deals and the absence of sales tax on clothes in PA bring busses full of shop hungry tourists from New York every year. They spend days there.
After yesterday, I’ve realized it’s kind of insane to try and do it all in one day. We spent about 8 hours there and didn’t even cover half the stores. Prices are insane, we’re talking everything 50% off with select racks an ADDITIONAL 75% off, racks of cute cute shirts for $4.99 or less, buy one pair of shoes, and get 2 additional pairs free, and my favorite, the $1.98 bin. And it’s not like they’re selling nerd uniforms or something. These are brands like Nautica, Van Heusen, Carter’s, Bass etc. etc.

Taking Anthony there helped me realize that my childhood and adolescent shopping in this place has made me the overly picky shopper that I am today. I almost always have irrational expectations. I can’t tell you how many times we’ve been shopping, I’ll see something I like, Ant will talk me into trying it on… It looks great! I love it! I look at the price tag again, and say something like, “Fourteen bucks? Eh, maybe if it were 2 dollars. Well, maybe 5.” He thought I was crazy, and now he knows that I’ve just been spoiled. In the end we spent a little more than planned, but my mom’s voice kept popping into my head, “You can’t buy the material for that price!” and “We’re making out like bandits!” And now that I've gotten what I need, I hopefully won't have to go shopping again for a year...or maybe two. We'll see how it goes.