The spread documents the brief highs a cup of coffee at the dinette, a moment at a candlelit dinner and the gritty lows rescuing her month-old son from choking on a peanut shell, cleaning up a bowl an unseen child threw on the kitchen floor of her life in St. Adam Mack tracks the astonishing ways in which supermarkets worked sex appeal into everyday shopping—whether through Muzak, carefully placed aromas, or the suggestion that male grocery store employees were there to serve them. They remade themselves in the model of the idealized woman—well-behaved, perky, submissive. Piggly Wiggly—now thought of as the first supermarket—was different than anything else of its age. It was a place of consumption as sensual as it was satisfying. And as historians like Tracey Deutsch and Adam Mack have documented, supermarkets were places where sexuality and gender strictures collided for American women. Using market research about American housewives, she revealed the tactics retailers used to shackle women through shopping. They also encouraged what some retailers characterized as animal-like behavior. Food was often unseen, haggled for in a sloppy market. Perhaps the most sobering photos in the story are a series of images showing Tweten attempting to subdue her children at the grocery store. Retailers were shocked that women wanted to elbow one another for good deals, buy canned foods, and gasp! As the historian Lizabeth Cohen notes , chain stores took longer to root themselves among working-class shoppers—and to become welcoming for members of ethnic groups like Jews, Italians, and Poles. Then, just as the world turned upside-down, so did grocery shopping. In , Betty Friedan brilliantly broke down how American advertisers foisted restrictive gender roles on women in The Feminine Mystique. Stores began to pander to upper-class women to, in effect, create the customer they wanted to attract. But among the advertisements are something else: Paul, Minnesota.