This year, total consumer spending on Halloween was projected by the NRF to hit $8.4 billion, with the average American estimated to spend $82.93 this year on decorations, costumes and candy.
But Halloween is over: Now that all the kids' sugar-induced candy comas have begun to subside, it’s time to turn our attentions to the next big food-gorging holiday — Thanksgiving. If you're the cook in the family, cue the cooking anxiety-induced panic attack.
If you’re not the cook in the family, Neiman Marcus doesn’t think you should sweat it. The luxury department store wants shoppers to fork over a couple hundred bucks for gourmet Thanksgiving dishes, such as its designer collard greens and the fanciest broccoli and cheese casserole you’ve ever laid eyes on.
This, and other signs of the apocalypse, in this week’s Retail Therapy.
Optimus Prime takes over world's biggest logistics network
The internet has declared that Caron Arnold the winner of Halloween this year, but it was her coworkers that first dubbed her with the title at an office costume contest.
Arnold, an art director at a marketing agency in St. Louis, used Amazon Prime shipping boxes to craft a pun-loving costume inspired by the retail technology giant and Optimus Prime,the leader of the Autobots from the Transformers franchise.
Her costume quickly became an internet sensation. The Huffington Post reported her getup sparked a hilarious photoshopping competition on the social media site Imgur, where cutouts of Arnold's costume were put in unlikely scenarios, such as the presidential debate stage or on the cover of a new movie about Amazon.
Amazon even tried to ride off Arnold's fifteen minutes of internet fame by reposting her picture to Facebook.
CVS's favorite Halloween costume
Jeremy Schneider went meta with his Halloween costume by donning a 12-foot piece of paper designed to resemble a CVS receipt.
In a viral video posted to YouTube, Schneider walks into a CVS store to see the reaction from employees and patrons. The oddball costume plays off another joke spawned by Jimmy Kimmel earlier this summer: The comedian, who claimed to be "running for vice president," called out retailers for printing unnecessarily long receipts. CVS responded with an initiative to let customers in its membership program go paperless.
The best part? Schneider's makeshift costume included his actual CVS bucks code. At the checkout, an employee scanned his costume to apply his rewards.
Breaking the bank for 'gentrified greens'
You know that broccoli and cheese casserole your grandma always makes every holiday? Instead of just asking for the recipe, Neiman Marcus wants consumers to shell out $65 for the designer version. I mean, is the cheese made of gold?
In fact, if buying Thanksgiving dinner is your thing, you might as well not forget the butternut squash ornamented with pecans (for another $80), the brioche stuffing (for $85) and the decadent 24-layer espresso-bean topped chocolate cake (for $120). While you're at it, you may just want to buy the kitchen sink and go all in with the whole Turkey dinner (which retails at $495 before shipping).
To add to the ridiculousness, the luxury brand is also offering four 12 oz. trays of frozen collard greens for $66. It must be noted that you can pick up a fresh 32 oz. bag of collard greens from Wal-Mart for $3.97. Earlier this week, The Washington Post spotted the "internet mockery" that ensued after the products were featured on the luxury department store's e-commerce site.
@neimanmarcus selling luxury collard greens...#gentrifiedgreens pic.twitter.com/aeOmkt7N9C
— Alexandria (@TomatoTw33ts) November 1, 2016
I'll just say this ...
— Thomas L. Strickland (@ThomasLS) November 1, 2016
If you buy collard greens from Neiman Marcus, you will not get into Heaven.
If you really like absurdly over-priced gifts, then you'll also love the luxury department store's annual outrageous fantasy gift catalog. 2016 highlights include: Lily Pulitzer-designed island cars for him and her (each retail for $65,000) and a slumber party at Neiman Marcus' Dallas flagship store (for a mere $120,000).
What the apocalypse looks like at Wal-Mart
If Alfred Hitchcock taught us anything, it's to run from the birds — and if the avian situation in this Wal-Mart parking lot isn't a sign of the apocalypse, I don't know what is.
