Salty Dog Chips. I love how the dog looks like it’s doing something naughty. I think that resonates with the furtive naughtiness of eating crisps.

Nudie’s whole direction is so cute, spirited and cheerful.

It kinda looks like the brand is “I WANT” but Commissary Kitchen is responsible for this one. Why make the consumer turn it over when you can talk to them on the front? Use of “I” engages the consumer’s higher level wants.

Great form factor and stylish packaging. It wouldn’t really matter if the tea was shit, which given the flavour of Darjeeling Cherry, it probably is.

Can’t immediately think of a more bullseye execution than this. Brilliant.

Great sense of locality and craftsmanship but executed in a modern way, rather than Ye Olde or Down Country design. Actually the cheese is only slightly above average and tastes relatively mass-produced, so they are investing a bit in dis-satisfaction here, but in terms of getting into my trolley, it’s full of win.

Yes I am one of those suburban types who likes to pour scorn on anything beyond the perimeter of my usual traversal – i.e. anything much beyond, say, Camberwell in the East, Yarraville in the West, Brunswick in the North and Brighton in the South. And that’s being generous. But I had heard whispers that the new Donny Shoppo (hereinafter DS) was a bit swisho and frankly I wanted to disprove such notions. The last time I went to DS was probably more than 10 years ago, and short of tearing the whole thing down I couldn’t see how you could improve it.

To paraphrase something I read somewhere recently, consumerism is based on the idea that we can all live like kings. (If someone knows who I’m paraphrasing, please tell me! It’s killing me!) Anyway, this insight seems to have been taken to considerable lengths at DS. With its sweeping spiral staircases, grand promenades, spacious air-conditioned vistas and momentously over-capitalised shops, its Chesterfield-infested “loungerooms” interspersed along the corridors and its concierge-style services, DS is certainly consumer indulgence on a massive scale.

The ranges of shops is awe-inspiring… Coles and Safeway, Myer and David Jones, Target and Big W. Not to mention suburban unlikelies including Bally, Calibre, Alannah Hill, MaxMara, Sass & Bide, Mecca, Lacoste, That Shop, Christensen Copenhagen… this is city-centre shopping comes to the suburbs.

Like a good acolyte of pomo architectural theory I want to start yawning about place – how these shopping behemoths are somehow “placeless”, they lack the variegation and patina of the “real” city.
On the other hand though, what about both/and? Isn’t this architecture entirely appropriate for this time and this place? And doesn’t variegation, all-too-often synonymous with civic dilapidation yet embraced by social elites as “texture” – hasn’t that now been shown to breed crime? DS steps lightly around such ideas. The shops’ interior designers have done a good job of de-homogenisation on many shops – Mecca has an intriguingly decontextualised barrel roof, some shops have timber shopfronts a la 19th century. But in the best nature of self-convenient pomo adherence it’s STILL incredibly disorienting and good luck finding your way out. There aren’t nearly enough maps. Oh but of course, play, not purpose. Oops I forgot. Only the right kinds of play and the right kinds of purpose, i.e. the ones that make you spend the most money.

We had a very nice latte and a passable pizza. We wandered round and we nearly bought stuff. We marvelled at the state-of-the-art parking guidance system. (follow the green lights!) And the acres upon acres of shops. And the attractive food hall. And the (rather distant) views of the city through the enormous glass walls of the Food Court. I felt slightly dirty and slightly dirtier when I realised I might be
enjoying myself.

BTW My photos are here, but they’re not terribly representative. You can get a better idea on Flickr.