Target vs. Wal-Mart: A shopper's story

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BY DEENA WINTER / Lincoln Journal Star

There are those who drive Fords and those who drive Chevys, those who drink Coke and those who drink Pepsi. And there are those who shop at Wal-Mart and those who shop at Target. The shoppers are often just as passionate about their preference as the pickup drivers and pop drinkers. But what’s the difference, really?

That question came up after the mayor and City Council squabbled recently over discount stores. City council members accused Mayor Coleen Seng of angling to get a Super Target — rather than a Wal-Mart Supercenter — at 84th and Adams. Seng denied it.

The merits of Target vs. Wal-Mart can be debated based on wages, benefits and labor practices. But let’s leave that for another day, and focus on the merits of Target versus Wal-Mart from a shopper’s perspective.

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(AP File)

(AP File)

Target: More than staples

I score a parking spot seven slots from the front door of the Target on 56th Street when I spot a woman getting out of a black Hummer. She was juggling three kids and didn’t have time to talk, but said she prefers Target “because it’s clean and has a nice clientele.”

Inside, I grab a red shopping cart and head for women’s clothing. That’s where I find Joni Rupe, 21. The college student shops at Wal-Mart and Target. She thinks Wal-Mart is cheaper overall, and goes there for groceries, but prefers Target’s clothes and purses.

If Lincoln had a SuperTarget, she’d probably buy her groceries there, too.

“Then I probably wouldn’t go to Wal-Mart as much,” she says

It’s easy to see why she likes Target’s clothes, with fashionable fare from big-name designer Isaac Mizrahi, Mossimo, and maternity clothing by Liz Lange.

That’s one of the reasons I’ve long preferred to get staples — paper towels, toilet paper, Tide, Kleenex — at Target. I didn’t originally come here for clothes, but a few years ago, they began to catch my eye. They were similar to the brand names I like, but cheaper.

My mom, on the other hand, buys her clothes at Wal-Mart.

It’s difficult to tell the difference between expensive clothes and Wal-Mart clothes, she said.

“I just like getting more for my money,” she said.

The quality is the same, she said, and rather than buying one pair of $100 jeans at an upscale store, she can buy four or five pairs.

My impressions of the two stores have been shaped by life experiences: A chic, young aerobics instructor who was married to a federal prosecutor and owned a house I wanted to buy once told me she could never get out of Target without dropping at least $50.

I couldn’t have agreed more — well, I could have, if I’d had more 50-dollar bills to throw around.

Her approval of my favorite discount store only reaffirmed mine.

I only have one Wal-Mart story: A co-worker once went to Wal-Mart and saw a woman shopping in a T-shirt. No pants. He followed her halfway around the store because he couldn’t believe his eyes.

Unlike Pottery Barn, within budget

Clothes aren’t the only distractions when I’m shopping for Charmin at Target.

The allure of modern framed art; sleek, contemporary furniture and adorable kids’ room decor are the three reasons it’s best if I just stay away from Target. But my editor sent me here this time, and I couldn’t be happier to report Target has expanded its furniture section.

Well, I could be happier, if I had more 50-dollar bills to throw around.

I thought I was seeing things when I spied a brown leather club chair on sale for $237, and a whole aisle of Vintage Modern Thomas O’Brien stuff. It’s not as cheap as I’d like: A floor lamp that caught my eye was $99.99. But a pair of black dining chairs — similar to those at Restoration Hardware I can’t afford — were a good deal at $129.99.

I was nearly as giddy a few years ago when Target began offering frilly, ruffly, flowery “Simply Shabby Chic” bedding and decor by Rachel Ashwell. The Target prices are a fraction — a very small fraction — of the prices Rachel charges at her stores.

I don’t buy a ton of this stuff, but it’s nice to know it’s within reach of my budget, unlike everything but the paperweights at Pottery Barn, where my motto is “Pretty to look at, fun to touch, but I’ll never buy it ’cause it costs too damn much.”

‘Low prices every day’

Normally, I stay away from Wal-Mart because I don’t like all the traffic, but I find an unusually good parking spot at the Wal-Mart Supercenter at 84th and Nebraska 2.

Outside, I ask Trang Nguyen, 29, why she shops here. She actually said she likes the “low prices every day,” although she prefers Target’s clothes.

Olympia Berg shops at both stores; whichever is closer.

The main problem I have with Wal-Mart is that it makes children cry.

I swear, every time I’m in the store I hear a child screaming for mercy. This visit was no different. Within two minutes of arriving, I heard it. Normally I gravitate away from the piercing screams, but today I was doing research.

So I followed the sound. And followed it. And followed it.

I thought the screamer was just a couple of aisles away, but this kid was halfway across the store. I found him in a shopping cart in the pharmacy, tears running down his chubby little flushed cheeks, as his mother reached for the Neosporin.

It’s not that I don’t like kids — I have two of my own and believe me, I’ve been there. It’s just that I’m inclined to rescue these wailing children from what is clearly, for them, an unsatisfying Wal-Mart shopping experience.

Fish to fishing nets

While Target was quiet and almost relaxing to stroll through, with barely perceptible Muzak and not too many people around, Wal-Mart is busier. And they’re playing some kind of country music song with the refrain “My brain can’t tame my tongue” or something.

The sheer volume of stuff is overwhelming. It has the feel of a warehouse, with less attractive displays, more clutter.

It’s less pleasing to the eye, even though the store attempts to look upscale with patches of warm hardwood floors. But the furniture is lined up like it’s set out for a garage sale.

I don’t see any leather chairs, but there’s a pile of leather ottomans for $29.94.

There’s certainly more to choose from: I can get paint, tires, fish, fabrics and fishing nets. I can buy a SpongeBob placemat and a SpongeBob toilet seat — so he is there to witness it all from start to finish, I guess.

A gallon of Miracle Whip and an eye exam

I hear my fourth kid crying as I go by the clothing section. The brand names alone don’t do it for me: White Stag? Faded Glory? I expect my clothing to cover up the fading glory beneath them, not accentuate it.

There’s the mary-kateandashley clothing line I’ve heard so much about — but trust me, those twin tarts don’t wear any of this girly stuff.

There are the Wranglers. A staple of every man’s wardrobe — 20 years ago.

I head toward the grocery section, which is where I’ve decided to return when it’s time to stock up for the bird flu epidemic. You can buy Miracle Whip by the gallon.

I’m starting to run into too many people and the music is getting on my nerves and the fifth kid has begun to cry, so I head to the checkout lane with three items.

Target had three checkout lanes open, and the best I could do was find a line with two people. Here, there are four lanes open and the first two have five people in line. I find one with only two people, but one has a cart full of groceries.

While I’m waiting, I look around and realize that if I’d planned ahead a little more, I could have filled a prescription, gotten my taxes done at H&R Block, opened a checking account, had an eye exam and a haircut, had my kids photographed professionally, gotten some Medicare advice and picked up a Big Mac.

Oh, well. At least I managed to avoid all four greeters on my way out.

Reach Deena Winter at 473-2642 or dwinter@journalstar.com.