I grew up in Minnesota and my memories there consist mainly of climbing trees, hiding in cornfields, and later in life, high school football games, pep rallies, and the Mall of America. Even in my college years when I was merely minutes away from Cole Haan, Saks Fifth Avenue, Nieman Marcus, Ralph Lauren, and other high fashion stores, my college budget kept the confines of my shopping strictly to dreaming as I perused the pages of my Vogue magazines.
Recently, I went back to the land of ten thousand lakes to visit my friends and family. Although I had spent my life near Minneapolis, the Nicollet Mall shopping area was still fairly foreign to me.
It was Father’s Day, so my mother and I dropped my dad off at the bookstore and headed for a Saks Fifth Avenue outlet down the street. I don’t have much patience for outlet stores and their crowded, unorganized racks. Like any normal American girl, if I am going to buy something I would ideally like it placed in my line of vision. I want to find my size easily and be escorted into a plush dressing room with a place