"Mall chain beats them all: Now Jane too is succumbing to the magic of glamour!" shouts the unscrupulous owner of the world's leading shopping mall chain and triumphantly toasts himself.

In his glittering lavish chamber, which is more reminiscent of a treasury than an office, he shares with a mixture of arrogance and amusement the latest twist in his consumer story: Jane - the independent, strong Jane who turned even Tarzan's head - has now discovered the luxury of the boutique world.

"She who dances with tigers and sleeps in tree houses is now a regular sight at our checkouts. Who would have thought that the homemade jungle outfits would be swapped for designer fashion?!"

He struts around the room, lit by city lights, and continues: "We showed her that there is more to discover in the air-conditioned aisles of our shopping centers than in the wilderness. We offer perfumes that smell more intense as wild orchids, jungle dresses that put any raffia palm fiber gown to shame!"

But as he relishes his triumph, a dark irony also becomes apparent. If even Jane, the symbol of wilderness and freedom, succumbs to consumerism, what does that say about the limits of our consumerism?

Regardless of this fact, the owner of the mall chain beams with smug satisfaction. “The monkeys will be buying their bananas from us next!” he says, his laughter filling the office as if it were echoing from every corner of the city: no one is safe in the realm of consumerism.