There aren’t many escapes from the grim onslaught of terrible news these days. You can stare at a blank wall, obsessively count the hairs on your arm, or, in a true moment of desperation, ponder the state of global fashion. I prefer the last one. I love being on the cutting edge of style, peacocking out in the decaying slopfest that is our planet. A crisp, well-made suit is a cure for all manner of emotionally trying times. I relish being hyper-aware of the goings-on of fashion, so I was one of the first sorry souls to learn of the current global obsession with flimsy canvas Trader Joe’s shopping bags.
For those unaware, Trader Joe’s is an American grocery store chain known primarily for its affordable prices, whimsical tropical branding, and heart-attack-inducing parking lots – apparently designed to be small because the stores themselves are so tiny that they can’t justify more spaces. I don’t naturally see the use in swanning about with a tote bag promoting a demolition derby disguised as a market, but I’m not most people.
All across the world, eager consumers are seeing price tags of up to $50,000 for a bag I can buy today for $3 that I will then shove into the remaining empty space in my closet and completely forget about every time I go shopping. Such is the fate of most tote bags. It’s a lonely existence, filled with neglect rather than groceries. So, why all the fuss over something so trivial? How did a store for budget-conscious Americans become a status symbol everywhere else?
I almost understand it. When I went to London last summer, I brought back a reusable shopping bag from Waitrose. It’s physical proof that I have been to London and was there long enough to need to stock up a refrigerator. Thus far, on the rare occasion that I recall owning this bag and use it for its intended purpose of carrying food, no one has said a word to me about it. I have turned zero heads, totally shut out from even a hint of praise for my globetrotting. Not once has anyone complimented me on a bag from a nondescript supermarket chain where you can get a six-pack of The Jolly Hog’s Proper Porkers Sausage for £3.18. Waitrose is simply not fashion, even if I want it to be, but Trader Joe’s is, because it’s … American.
Whether we like it or not, America has retained a shred of coolness, despite the best efforts of those in power. Countless American brands became synonymous with hipness in the 20th century – Marlboro, Budweiser, Levi’s, Ford. A staggering 38,000 people were estimated to have waited in line for the first McDonald’s in Moscow back in 1990. Surely they were all highly satisfied by the limp patties, haphazardly applied ketchup, and suspiciously symmetrical diced onions after having been deprived of it for so long. That the food tastes like an ageing bathroom sponge wasn’t the point. It was that it was exotic, previously forbidden, and American. It’s probably the same reason people in East Berlin loved the music of David Hasselhoff. In both cases, I wouldn’t recommend consistent consumption of the product.
Culture was always one of America’s greatest strengths on the world stage – movies, music, incredibly disappointing fast food, Baywatch. I’m not saying all of it was good, but it was certainly popular. It made people want to come here. It made other countries jealous of our influence. In the 1980s, amid the cold war, American cinema was stuffed with blatant patriotism in movies like Top Gun and Rocky IV. Only Sylvester Stallone could end hostilities between the United States and the Soviet Union just by punching a guy over and over again.
It sure would be fun to get nostalgic over those days, when Americans could actually be proud of their propaganda instead of deeply embarrassed by it. But the truth is, American cultural exports have always hidden the very real problems this country has faced. John Wayne movies swept the horrific mistreatment of Native Americans under the proverbial rug. Rambo made military adventurism in Afghanistan seem cool. Fast food lowers culinary standards and buries local cuisine in other countries, just like it does here.
Maybe people are getting wise to all of this, though. As of last month, the US travel industry reportedly expected 4.5 million fewer visitors in 2025 compared with 2024.
It’s telling that people are willing to spend $50,000 to buy a tote bag from Trader Joe’s and have it shipped to them but reluctant to go on vacation to a country that has actual Trader Joe’s locations. It’s almost like people would prefer to pretend to have gone to America than to go. I’d suggest not even bothering to pretend any more. Visiting a Trader Joe’s is like shopping for food inside an ATM vestibule: the produce is almost always subpar, and you might get hit by a car in the parking lot. Even the garlic spread isn’t actually worth the hassle.
You don’t actually need a Trader Joe’s tote bag to carry the latest Colleen Hoover novel, a bag of almonds, and a lone sock that accidentally fell in on laundry day. Save your money. Carry a tote bag from a local shop that needs your unconscious brand advertising. And if you still absolutely must have a TJ’s bag, then book a flight to Los Angeles and buy one here … for $3. The city could use your tourism.
Just be sure to factory reset your phone before coming.
Dave Schilling is a Los Angeles-based writer and humorist
