Temple of Consumption

Yesterday, we made our obligatory pilgrimage to Harrod's of London.

It is a grand and impressive building.  A far cry from the architecture of a shopping mall, it is a block of building that would look at home on Embassy Row.  With domes and spires and beautiful stone, it looks more like a temple than a department store.

Equally impressive are the interiors.  Richly appointed and bursting with goods of all sorts, it is five floors of shopping in a single building.  Want clothes, no problem.  Want groceries, got them.  Want carpet, a bank, a crock pot, Legos--there here.  Planning to travel, come to our travel agent.  The store has eight restaurants contained within if you happen to get hungry.  We stopped at a a place called The Chocolate Bar for a snack which had an entire menu of desserts and drinks made with, you guessed it, chocolate (it was packed).

They even have things you couldn't have imagined you needed before you arrived.  On display was a golf cart modeled after a Mini Cooper.  The irony--if my pound to dollar conversion was right--with its digital TV and optional hard-top and other accessories it actually costs more than the real car.  Then there was the sea-doo like device (you ride it like a motorcycle on the water).  You often see these on lakes and rivers in the United States. But this one was different, it was absurdly small and could achieve 50 miles per hour.  The cost?  Try $125,000.  That might sound steep, but don't forget that it includes a personal lesson on how to use it.

In the center of the store there is an escalator column covered in an Egyptian motif that runs to all of the floors.  On the ground floor, I came across a crowd.  As I looked, I noticed what appeared to be an altar.  And there staring back at me permanently ensconced photographs of Princes Di and Dodi Fayad.

As I stood there, it occurred to me that Harrod's really is a temple.  A temple to conspicuous consumption and to celebrity.  The numb faces of the thousands entering to make their offerings at the shrine that promises all the world has to offer.

I was glad to get out of there--but I did have a little green bag in my hand by the time I made it back to the street.