It’s rough being part of a major target market. I think I got through the first three decades of my shopping life without mishap, but now that I have disposable income the marketing powers have carefully researched my nostalgic triggers and put them to use. At the new DSW Shoe Warehouse in San Jose, their plethora of shoes and sizes were all conveniently lined up for me to try on at my own browsing speed, just like when I was little and my mom would take me to Shoe Town in Norwalk, Connecticut. And every time I thought that maybe I had had enough of the rows and rows of fashionably cute shoes, another eighties-era song that I hadn’t heard in many years would come on over the sound system and I’d have to stay and listen to it. And try on another pair of sandals. I came out with remarkably little damage, thanks to the discounted clearance racks and my disinclination towards trends.