Last summer, I was at a family friend’s house when a young girl asked her mother for a little bag of chips. Her mother countered, “Lily, do you want them because you’re hungry or because you’re bored?” “Both,” Lily replied, sighing.
Whether or not we question ourselves about our eating, why not examine another act of consumption–namely, shopping–in a similar light? I sometimes do, and I’ve realized that on my best days, shopping is about me feeling hopeful, powerful, and creative; it’s a world of opportunity, and I want to see what’s out there. But on other days, it’s more about checking things off of my must-have list, i.e. being productive via the credit card. In BOBOs in Paradise, David Brooks writes that the 19th Century bourgeoisie defined themselves by making money and being productive. So basically, on my worst days, I really am being, like, so bourgeois.
I don’t know about you, but I really don’t want to be one of those insatiable-types! And I really don’t want to be a pawn to any industry, fashion or otherwise. Maybe that’s why people love talking about designers as artists (which, no doubt, they are…at least sort of); if a designer is an artist, you’re not a buying-obsessed clotheshorse, but a patron of the arts.
Luckily, retail therapy really doesn’t work for me–when I’m feeling down, my sharp eye dulls and I can’t tell what I like from what I feel I should like. But that isn’t the case with lots of people, who get a nice lift when weighted down with shopping bags. Like Lily’s mom encouraged her little one with the chips, maybe we shouldn’t feel bad about asking ourselves exactly why we buy.
