It was Friday, the morning after Thanksgiving. To soothe my stomach and combat the burnout of entertaining extended family, I planned to rot my brain on TikTok and chug water to the white noise of the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade reruns for a few hours.
Typically, I’d pick up a book to pass the time or go on a hike in the mountains that border my mom’s hometown, but the next two weeks of school were certain to be life-threatening, so give me a break.
Imagine my disappointment when I opened TikTok to find no hilarious videos of grown men dueling over flat-screen TVs or nine-year-olds trampling the elderly for a discounted tablet. Having never participated in Black Friday myself (everyday is Black Friday to me — I have a shopping problem), I relied on the content of others to satisfy my craving of seeing evolution take a few steps back while malls become war zones.
The only video even remotely related to Black Friday that came across my feed saw a Target shopper removing a sign that read “Black Friday Deals” to reveal the previous price of the same item. My jaw dropped when both of the tags priced the 75-inch Samsung TV at $649.99.
Another video exposed the fact that some companies just inflate former price points to create the illusion of a real discount on Black Friday.
Call me naive, but I wasn’t aware that these were common sins in the retail world, until the comments of these videos echoed less-than-shocked sentiments. I’d complain about the lack of integrity, but in a country where capitalism is second nature to even kids upcharging at lemonade stands, I know better.
But, something about this marketing scheme felt particularly sinister this year, as many consumers have been squeezed by persistent inflation and high interest rates. While inflation rates have eased significantly, prices increases are still becoming a greater burden on consumer wallets and leaving less room for their discretionary spending. According to Reuters, holiday spending is expected to rise at the slowest pace in five years.
A struggling economy may not be the only thing to blame for a lackluster Black Friday.
When the title was first used in relation to retail shopping in the 1950s, it signified one day out of the year when customers would storm retailers in overwhelming and unruly crowds in search of extraordinary discounts. Now, the national holiday has morphed into a weeks-long marathon.