Trend alert (but why?)
Step-counting with a touch of nostalgia: why 'mall walking' is cool again (yes, really)
I love a sedate mall walk. No, I’m not pumping my arms and walking as fast as I would if I were late for meeting. (Although many of my fellow striders are).
Instead, I’m catching up with friends, or keeping myself busy while my teenage children and their friends cavort in the arcade, peruse the lotions and potions at Ulta, hit me up for cash to buy cookies at Saratoga Dessert Bar, all at the conveniently located Wilton Mall. (And I can hit up BJ’s and Target after too!)
I’m not alone.
This relatively brutal winter has stirred up some major cabin fever among Saratogians, who (anecdotally anyway) have really hit the mall in force this year, tying up their sneakers for laps with friends. Who can blame them: no ice, even surfaces, people to socialize with — plus coffee and cookie opportunities and a touch of nostalgia.
“Mall walking” is officially trending in the 12866.
“The temperature is a big win,” says devoted strider Christa Hyland, who was chaperoning a trio of kids, returning things and shopping at Old Navy, reviewing requests for Noobies—all while hanging out with her own friends and racking up those steps.
“Plus, you get your dose of Vitamin D,” says Laura Tilton, pointing to the skylights.
Not everyone is ready to drink the mall walk Kool-Aid though. My father, a longtime member of the AARP, asked me: “Isn’t it for old people? I mean mall walking? Really?”
Yes Chris, really.
He’s right to be skeptical. Mall walking has been a national trend for a few years, stemming from Gen Z’s love for social workout trends — and throwbacks. So yes, mall walking is old. But nostalgia is in, and in Upstate New York it became a necessity, too, thanks to this epic cold snap inspiring a new crop of walkers ready to hit the mall like it’s 1985.
Like my dad, Dan De Federicis, a former New York State trooper and publisher of the Saratoga Report, is also unmoved by the charms of the mall walk.
“I did it once, and that was enough,” he says. “My daughter was in a cheerleading class, so I said, ‘Why not get some exercise?’ My knees are now screaming in pain. Maybe I wasn’t wearing the right shoes. My friends love it, but it’s not for me.”
I’m on Dan’s friends’ side.
For me, I get gossip, mom points and a climate-controlled, safe and even environment sans ice. The thought, “Will I break a hip?” never enters my addled, perimenopausal mind. And I can reward myself with a cookie at the end.
I will admit though: I look forward to the time—seemingly many many weeks into the future—when the snow will melt, and I can walk outside without fear of hitting the deck, or the 20-minute project of bundling up.
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