Portland Group Turns Mall Walking into Performance Art with 80s Theme

Mall walking is often seen as the domain of senior citizens who want a level, indoor path to get their steps in. But in Portland, Ore., a group of all ages is creating a different kind of mall walk. They strap on retro spandex and sweatbands, blast '80s music, and essentially put on a high-viz, high-cardio parade through the mall that's part exercise … part performance art. The group, which meets weekly, is known as the Food Court 5000.

The need for movement meets an empty mall

A little over a year ago, Krista Catwood got a new office job. She was happy, but also spent a lot of time sitting.

" It's like, 'OK, we need to figure out how to get movement into my life,'" Catwood remembered. And as a former burlesque performer and occasional event producer, she knew it had to be fun.

"Costumes work for me, ridiculous works for me, community works for me. And I knew there had to be some sort of a social accountability piece involving other folks — otherwise I could make a lot of excuses and not show up."

It didn't take Catwood long to land on mall walking — specifically, walking at Portland's Lloyd Center. This mall, which opened in 1960, takes up about 20 city blocks in the northeast part of the city.

In recent years, many of the mall's stores closed, part of the broad decline in mall shopping across the country. But the upside meant lots of open stretches for walking. And the mall also had welcomed other quirky ventures — an empty Marshalls that turned into the home base for a wilderness skills camp, a nonprofit electronic music synth library, a storefront selling just light sabers — as part of an attempted revitalization.

A solo hunt for exercise becomes an exercise party

Catwood strapped on a headset microphone, found some portable speakers, and gathered a few friends for a Sunday morning walk at the mall. She opted for full 1980s workout gear — leotards and leggings, windbreakers and sweatbands — all in retro neon. Within weeks, more people joined in. And for Food Court 5000's first anniversary celebration in March, about 200 walkers showed up. Most participants have adopted Catwood's 1980s fashion as the unofficial uniform.

On a recent Sunday morning, Catwood lays out the ground rules to a crowd of about 50. You have to pump your arms in exaggerated racewalking fashion ("It is the international sign that you are a mall walker," Catwood explains.), wave to everybody you pass, listen to your body (whether that means quitting early, or purchasing some hot pretzels), and don't leave anyone behind to walk alone. Then the music starts, and they're off.

With the speakers pumping songs by Erasure and Robert Palmer, walkers find their groove. They high-five the doors, drop their voices when walking past a chess club, and wave to various other shoppers and security staff. At the end of each loop, they gather at the escalators, approaching them like a fashion runway: They strike poses, pulsing and pointing to the beat. Everyone seems to be having a ridiculously good time.

Mariah Erlick comes most every Sunday. "It's such a fun way to just get exercise, do something really silly, build community. And I just love a shenanigan," she laughs.

Steve Valley appreciates being able to get exercise even during the rainiest of Portland winter days. He grew up in Portland and actually came to this mall as a teen.

"Hanging out with my high school friends, watching movies, putting quarters in machines," Valley remembers.

Now he's power walking past the claw machines and empty storefronts.

A mixed multitude of mall walkers

The Food Court 5000 group is striking not only in its outfits and gusto, but also in its demographic range. Catwood says that's the benefit of meeting in an accessible, public space.

"Our group is incredibly diverse. We've got people from 8 to 80. We've got people of all abilities. A lot of folks use mobility devices, [there are] folks with intellectual disabilities," says Catwood.

Participants like Libby Rice, who's been coming since the beginning, say that's part of the draw. "I've met so many cool people that I have no idea how I would've met them otherwise. It's a joyous space, and … it's for everyone."

Leslie Kelinson is 81 years old and comes almost every week (she usually leads the pack).

"You see how fun it is. I mean, this is therapeutic, it's medicinal, it's everything," says Kelinson. She jokes that it's better than a spa.

It's also an actual workout. The Food Court 5000 does two full loops of each of the mall's three levels, for a total of 3.5 miles.

Food Court 5000's future may not be at this mall, but it will be somewhere

Every workout of the Food Court 5000 ends, of course, back at the food court. Walkers chat and share snacks in something that feels like a church coffee hour. Leader Krista Catwood says they actually get compared to church quite a lot.

"'Cause it's joyous. There's music, there's movement, it's a coming together, it happens on a Sunday," says Catwood. What are they worshipping?

"Centering joy, I think," says Catwood. "And right now we could all use more of that."

Though it probably won't be here at the Lloyd Center. While the mall is a hotbed of community fun — today's walkers passed a sticker swap, a zine meetup and several classes of skaters practicing on the ice rink — it's still not enough to pay the rent. After more than 65 years, the Lloyd Center mall will close its doors in August.