Getting out with the in crowd

I work next to one of the retail meccas in the greater Phoenix area. This area is replete with all of the customary vestiges of wealth- the BMW's, the bronzed and tightened women, the designer clothing, and the feigned look of importance. An old co-worker hit the nail on the head when he observed that Scottsdale was the home of the $30k a year millionaire. The Jones’s can't even keep up with the Jones’s here.
Anyways, I am human and on occasion I give into the siren song of Facconable or the corduroy call of the Gap or the high fashion of the Republic. Today I was determined to get some new shoes...the Nordstrom rack would be my destination. Am I a woman?
As expected the store was absolutely busy. It makes perfect sense, right? All of the top name brands at reduced prices. The most affordable way for the savvy shopper to keep up with the latest, well sort of latest, looks. Brand name, after all, does mean something...especially in this town. I went over to the shoe racks and was greeted by several people feverishly poring over the Cole Haans and Alan Edmunds like if they didn't react with lightning speed then someone else would claim their find. As I looked around I could have sworn that I was in the Serengeti and that the people were hyenas and the clothes were the rotting yet savory carcass of a once proud beast- a once relevant clothing style. There was a determination and savage look on their faces as they efficiently sorted through the racks.
I tried to be more casual in my routine, trying not to look like I was a slave to clothes. But I do admit that I almost bought a pretty ugly Facconable shirt just because it had the tag. I suck. I picked out my shoes and left with a pang of guilt because I was sort of that type of person that I sometimes mock.
Scottsdale is an exceptionally superficial town. That was made very clear to me after recent trips to Austin and Chicago, two towns with real people and real identities. There is a definite self-centeredness there that can only be shadowed by the Capital of "Me", Los Angeles. It is kind of sad to see people define themselves by colorful possessions. I have to admit that even self righteous little me isn't immune to this tendency. I left the store asking myself whether or not it was possible to enjoy high fashion and high society without becoming a slave to it. Any answers?