The Seven Levels of Life (and Macy's)

I recently was window shopping at Macy's (which means riding the escalators all the way up to the top and back down). There I noticed a disturbing trend.

1st floor:
Eateries. Sushi bars. Pretty things like makeup for you to indulge in after your soul-sucking workout across the street. 

Because let's face it, you probably don't have the money or the time to go up the escalator and buy the clothing that they're actually trying to sell.

2nd floor:
They display the most expensive young women's clothes first because that's the demographic that tends to visit department stores like this one. Chic, stylish, trendy, foreward-fashion (I have no idea as to what this means, but I have read it somewhere before).

The clothing reflects youth at it's finest. Sparkly, new, and dare I mention thin. About .5% of the shoppers I saw there could actually fit in the dresses they had on display (which points to an interesting social topic about body image that I won't go into here).

Because if you don't have the guts or the waistline to wear the loud tank tops and distressed-denim skinny jeans, you have your whole life ahead of you! Maybe tomorrow you will! Or the tomorrow after that! There are so many tomorrows that the excitement of it all could give you a heart-attack! But you're too young for that! It's all so hopeful!

3rd floor:
Pretty much the same as the 2nd floor, but nominally more mature. Flowered tops and modern dresses, scarves, and early spring deals.

You still don't have the waistline or money or guts, but hey, you've got time. It's still hopeful. Mostly.

4th floor:
Professional women's clothing. 

Black and white and modern, baby. Dull and plain like your life.

Noticeably more clothes in the larger sizes. Not on the manikins of course, but noticeably more. Because if you have to be on this floor, you don't have time to workout and you're probably married anyway. Your chance of a size 2 disappeared somewhere on the 3rd floor amid the pump heels and the drug dealers in the changing rooms (I didn't actually see any, but you know they must exist).

5th floor:
Baby clothes.

Because after you get married and bust a few of the buttons on your professional attire (see above), you obviously have kids, right?

6th floor:
Furniture.

You quit your job and upgraded your house. This way you can buy a new Lay-Z boy for your husband and buy-out the makeup section downstairs in one go!

If you're still on the experimental side (which is very unlikely at this stage), you can buy a pre-made middle-east themed kitchen set conveniently displayed in the corner because no lifeless mother/failed professional in their right mind would want one.

7th floor:
The Cheesecake Factory.

Now that you're old and fat, you can take your 6 and 7 year old to this dark and cramped restaurant/pastry shop/I-have-no-clue-what-this-actually-is. This way, they too can eat too much cheesecake and repeat the cycle.