The next-door neighbour is doing renovations, and they’re at drilling-and-pounding stage. In the last few days, I’ve woken up at 8.30 in the morning to the strains of skull-vibrating drilling. And I telecommute. Needless to say, my laptop and I hang out at the mall most days.
I don’t really consider myself materialistic, so this sense of gratitude for malls came as a surprise to me. But I’ve come to realise that as a city girl, malls are part of my comfort zone. They’re like the McDonald’s of cities. Every city, even the ones with building height regulations, will eventually organically grow a mall, and the feel, organisation and scents of the place will evoke a sense of familiarity with every other mall in the world. (Except maybe the ones in Dubai. Those aren’t so much malls as multi-storey suburbs. With epic fish tanks.).
Malls are city residents’ climate-controlled refuges, from noise, rain, cold, heat, live-in in-laws… and, right at this moment, having just skipped home from half a day at a mall-bound Starbucks doing some work, I am grateful for their existence!