Flowers, peanut butter, potatoes | Just another superstore commodity


 

Using every practice I have available to feel grounded, laser-focused, and discretionary regarding my purchases, I stand facing a wall of flowers. Every product in Costco seemingly takes up a wall of space which I find terribly obnoxious. The energy it takes to literally move around awkwardly, depending on how heavy your cart is becoming, is a challenge. It’s a place where today, at least with the surge in lifestyle costs, I grapple with my consumption while still being conscious. 

Every time I go into the superstore I feel elated when I walk out with a small cart of goods. I was able to have will power. I was able to say no. Let’s face it, no is really the best answer one can exercise while in that place. No, I don't need five dozen english muffins or 2 gallons of yogurt. What can end up happening is a, I should stock up, mentality. Which I’d argue has had a strange, rather contrarian effect on what is enough.  

One of the several walls of flowers

 

I have my opinions on Costco. I’ll be honest, I despise and love it. I’ve surrendered that it can be both things at the same time. I held out a long time on becoming a member because I value the mom and pop shops, the independents, and the retailers that by no other name, where the local spots. In a world of so much color it enrages me that Costco is diluting, suffocating, and dominating the market.

Now, almost two years later (I was forty-four when I joined) here I am with a Costco membership standing in front of the flowers determining which ones to buy. I don’t have anything aside from hellebores, a few daffodils, and a very small forsythia blooming in my garden and I’d like to make an arrangement for the dining room and a homage to the loveliness of spring.

From the mixed bouquets to single varietal bunches I end up with a creamy colored bunch of stock, enticing because it’s actually fragrant and a playful mix of sunflowers, chrysanthemums, and eucalyptus. All of which are clearly grown halfway around the world. 

Most of the blossoms we buy are from Colombia, Ecuador, Netherlands, even Kenya. It’s something I’m equally blown away by (it’s mind boggling really when you pause to think how a significant percentage of what you consume, daily, travels more than you may ever do in 10 years) yet thankful for. 

How many hands have already touched and cared for these flowers? They’ve been cut and bundled, likely taken multiple flights, traveled from greenhouses to boxes, forklifts to distribution centers, finally to this particular Costco in Albuquerque where they stand watching me trying to decide. It’s impressive. 

The entire act feels like I’m doing the flowers a favor. Instead of having to remain in this bustling warehouse in the cramped quarters of an open refrigerator they’ll be free to stand out and be glorious in the comfort of my home. If they age at the store, I’m afraid they may ultimately go into the waste bin without a second thought. 

I ultimately left Costco with a surprisingly small cart of goods, two large bouquets of flowers and the precious perspective that indeed beauty can be found anywhere and though it may be challenging to source the flowers that you may want as a budding floral designer it certainly provides an opportunity for ingenuity