I'VE BEEN THERE I KNOW THE WAY: According to my New Yorker, every part of a shopping mall -- from the placement of the stores to the give of the pavement to the little touches made to remind you of how rich and powerful you are -- are meticulously controlled and planned to separate you from your money. So how is it that the architects were able to sell the developers on the commerce-defeating concept of the shopping maze?
An hour ago I was at the Westfield in downtown San Diego wolfing down some food-court fare. On my way out, while walking on what was either the third floor or the third-and-a-half floor, I spied a Banana Republic right across the and greater than or equal to a half-floor below me. But I could not for the life of me figure out how to get there. The escalators that crossed the atrium only ran up, and there were no nearby stairs or elevators. By the time I found a way down, I had walked halfway across the mall and was at the exit, so: screw it. I have had this exact experience at Frank Gehry's Escher-like Santa Monica Place, at the recently renovated, favorably reviewed, and inhumanely designed Rudolph Hall (formerly the Art & Architecture building) at Yale, and driving in downtown Los Angeles, the latter two of which are not malls but which are similarly built around the singularly infuriating concept of "you can't get there from here."
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