No one who knows me would mistake me for a shopper. Sometimes I need to be told to replace a favorite garment which is perfectly clean and sometimes even pressed. But worn. Tired. Old. I don’t notice. I like sunglasses and scarves and tote bags and other accessories to which I pay much more attention. But I know this about myself, so I heed the advice and do what’s needed.
Like I said, I’m not a shopper.
This morning, I came across a page I’d torn out of an advertising circular from Sunday’s paper because it featured a small table fan of the sort I want for my office and haven’t been able to find. It’s a very small fan with a small footprint that will fit very nicely on my desk. It’s cheap and simple. Just my style. I want that fan. In fact I need that fan.
But I have no idea what store has that fan. Neither the store’s name nor any suggestive logo or partial logo nor small print at the bottom is to be found on either side of this sheet. It could be Sears. It could be Target. Maybe it’s Penny’s. I’ll bet they all have big budgets and big staffs to produce these little things that clutter our newspapers and litter our landscape.
Perhaps, as an “American consumer”, I’m supposed to be adept at identifying this orphan page by the font alone? If I can’t do that I must be unworthy of their $14.99 fan.