(ThyBlackMan.com) Consumers love a sale. We love the little red tag, the “limited time only,” the breathless “50% OFF!” that promises we’re getting over on somebody. At this time of year, the sales signs practically scream at us, and we rush to stores convinced we’ve won a battle against high prices. But here’s the truth retailers hope you never pause long enough to consider: If a store can slash a price by half and still make money, were you ever getting a real deal?
That’s the mystery of the markdown. And once you pull back the curtain, the mystery dissolves into a simple equation: the retailer is not losing money—far from it.
Let’s start with the math. Most consumers imagine that when they buy a $100 sweater, somewhere in Bangladesh a worker made it for $60 or $70, and the retailer added a modest markup. Not! That $100 item cost the retailer between $20 and $40, or even less if it’s fast fashion.
What happens when the store announces “50% off”? That $100 sweater becomes $50 at the register. Sounds like a steal, right? But if the retailer paid $30 for it, they’re still pocketing $20 in profit. That’s a 40% margin, even after the dramatic price “cut”. No pain. No loss. Just business.
The “deal” is not on the clothes. The “deal” is on your behavior.
Retailers understand psychology even better than economics. They know the dopamine hit of thinking we beat the system. They know the urgency of a ticking clock. They know we walk in for “one thing” and walk out with a cart. Savings is the bait; profit is the switch.
We’ve all nipped at the bait. I’ve driven dozens of miles to a mall for a sale. I’ve stood in line for a half-off of designer clothing. I’ve bought junque that I did not need because it was “on sale”. That was a lifetime ago. These days I shop in my overflowing closet. I tell myself I will never need a new item of clothing again. Kind of. I can’t tell you when I last bought “new stuff”. But I confess that when faced with the possibility of a high visibility event, I called my favorite “Black girl” store (Katula in LA) to ask them to send me pics of something fabulous. Regaining good sense, I called hours later to say, “never mind”, I got this
Bait and switch. Even the so-called “regular price” is a fiction. In many states, a retailer can raise a price for a few weeks, then proclaim a markdown that feels massive but is meaningless. Those “compare at $149!” stickers? Often invented numbers. Those “before and after” tags? Carefully engineered illusions.
The real misery behind the markdown isn’t felt by the retailer or the bargain-seeker. It’s borne by the workers whose low wages make the whole system possible. By the warehouse crews who don’t see their families during the holidays. By the delivery drivers forced into sixteen-hour shifts. By the sales associates who smile through exhaustion for $15 an hour—if that.
This entire ecosystem of discount culture is built on someone else being discounted.
Retailers have gotten more sophisticated, not less. Today’s “sales” are algorithmically timed, psychologically targeted, and strategically priced. Businesses know exactly how much inventory they can move at each price point, and they build markdowns into their annual plan. The sale is not a surprise—it’s the strategy.
A retailer might lose money on one “doorbuster” TV, but that’s a deliberate sacrifice to lure you into a store filled with 200% markups. You came for the deal; you stay for the illusion. And you leave thinking you’ve triumphed, not realizing you’ve played the part retailers wrote for you.
So as the holiday season barrels toward us, and as communities—especially Black communities—are bombarded with pressure to buy, buy, buy, it’s worth asking: What do we really gain from chasing sales that were never sales in the first place?
For many of us, the cost isn’t just financial; it’s emotional. We feel guilty when we don’t spend. We feel inadequate when we can’t gift lavishly. And too often, we sacrifice long-term financial well-being for short-term “joy” engineered by an industry built on extraction. It’s called predatory capitalism.
The markdown is not serving you or your family, not serving the workers whose bodies absorb the true cost of America’s bargain culture.
The retailer isn’t slashing their profits. They’re slashing your perception.
Why do we keep celebrating the privilege of being played?
This year let’s refuse the hustle. Let’s stop applauding fake generosity.
Let’s protect our wallets, our dignity, and our sanity.
The markdown isn’t a gift. It’s a business model. It only works if we keep falling for it.
Written By Julianne Malveaux
Official website; http://www.juliannemalveaux.com/
