"The objects are pretty; their stories are hideous..."
"the silence of the lambswool cardigans" considers the hidden human and ecological cost of such commodities, as well as the noplace of the global shopping outlet.
The street that goes out there is still called Shellmound, but the mall itself hosts all the usual chains that make it impossible to know if you're in Phoenix or Philadelphia...The mall is a distinctly modern site, a space that could be anywhere into which commodities come as if out of nowhere. (via wood s lot)
This seems to team with the sorrow of the outdoor furniture...
or the despair of the mobile phone...
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