Black Friday Was Never About the Deals

Black Friday was once a sacred day. I don't mean that in a consumerist, "all hail Target" kind of way, but rather that it was genuinely one of the most memory-soaked, laughter-filled, heart-bursting days of the year. It was tradition, connection, and incredibly special.

 

I remember sitting at the kitchen table with my Grandma after Thanksgiving dinner, pumpkin pie still warm, the ads spread out in front of us like battle plans. We'd circle doorbusters with a Sharpie, comparing deals with the focus of a true perfectionist. Our goal was to find maximum freebees, in minimum time, and get to Auntie Anne's for a pretzel before they were sold out. It was our official kickoff to Christmas, and it was OUR day.

 

We'd wake up in the dark, far too early for anyone else to be awake unless they were headed out to buy discount blenders. We'd be bundled up like we were trekking Everest, but we'd still work up a sweat...and an appetite. I swear, nothing in my adult life has ever tasted as refreshing as that mall food court smoothie after six hours of braving the crowds of holiday shoppers. It was never about what we bought, it was all about the company. It was about the jokes we'd tell in line, the conversations with other shoppers, and the people-watching that rivaled even the best day in present-day Walmart.

 

Now it's...confusing. Black Friday isn't a day anymore. It's basically nothing more than a nostalgic reminder of the magic that once was. Now, deals start whenever brands feel like it (October? Sure! July? Why not!). The Internet is a never-ending scroll of half-sales, fake urgency, and contradictory discount codes. "20% off, but only with this email, but not on that item, well...unless it's Tuesday." Cool. NOT!

 

Because there is no moment, there is no longer any magic. There's no anticipation, no rituals, no traditions. Now, what we are left with are emails that start too early and sales that stretch out too long. It's hard to tell what's real, let alone what's worth it. Are we supposed to shop today? Tomorrow? Next Monday? Is THIS the best deal, or is a better one coming on some other fabricated shopping holiday I forgot to mark on my calendar?

 

The thing is, I don't just miss Black Friday - I miss what it stood for! I miss the rhythm of tradition. I miss the feeling of being part of something, together, at the same time. I miss planning for the joy of the score. I miss creating a little bubble of chaos and delight that only made sense to you and the people you loved.

 

Black Friday, in all its loud, messy, crowded glory, was one of the last great analog experiences. It was a time before everything was "Buy Now", and nothing was special. It was before algorithms told you what you needed and overnight shipping erased the thrill of the hunt. It was before connection was a screen and memory-making required and app.

 

In reality, it isn't all about the shopping. It's about how the world changed, fast and quiet and all at once, and we barely had time to notice before things that felt sacred became...optional, digitized, diluted, disconnected.

 

There is no going back. I know that. However, I would trade every "early access" promo code in my inbox for one more Thanksgiving night with my Grandma, planning our retail rampage over pie and cocoa. I would trade it all for one more pre-dawn parking lot, clutching our lists like they were worth a million bucks.

 

Black Friday used to mean something. Maybe that's what I'm really morning - not the deals, but the disappearing magic of doing things TOGETHER, and knowing exactly where I'd be the day after Thanksgiving, and exactly who would be next to me.