Spring Break
Stuff is OK
Charlotte Downes
Issue date: 9/24/08 Section: The Edge
I love stuff. I really, really do. I just can't help it. I do things to ease my conscience: I grocery shop with a canvas bag, I volunteer, and honestly, I'm not wasteful.
Anybody who has ever seen me attack the chili hot dogs at happy hour knows I don't waste food, and I recycle - I promise. I even hide it pretty well - I've been described as frugal. I pay my electricity bill before I use my Express card.
But deep down, I am constantly aware of my dirty little secret: I love to shop.
I crave that familiar rush I get when I whip out my credit card and boot up my laptop. Shopping for boots gives my best friend and I conversation topics for at least a week.
I anticipate and plan my "stuff binges" for weeks. Every girl knows the post-stuff binge ritual: spread it all out on your bed, figure out which shoes to wear with your new outfit, carefully hang it on your closet. It's so satisfying. "Yessss," I think.
I am wracked with guilt about my vice. I'm a good person, a totally normal girl from a normal small town. Watching "My Super Sweet 16" makes me sick; I cannot make it past the first 10 minutes of the show.
I worked through high school and I work now. And I'm aware of the fact that I've had a lucky life, and am fortunate to be able to attend school and get a degree. There's really no explanation for the obsession.
But how surprising is it, really? It's no news that we live in a materialistic society where racking up the credit card debt has become a social norm. Where else could "Confessions of a Shopaholic," a story about a kooky, plucky young girl who indulges in shopping to the point of financial ruin, become not only a bestseller, but also a major motion picture?
We're told retail therapy is good for everyone: good for us, good for the businesses and good for the economy. But since when is Macy's a small business? And when I ordered new Asics from Zappos.com, the plummeting stock market didn't take a sudden leap. We still keep buying things, even though it doesn't fix anything.
Maybe it's the sense of accomplishment that comes from paying your bills and having enough left over to buy yourself a little something.
Maybe it's the "good to be bad" feeling that comes from voting Democratic and then shopping at Urban Outfitters.
All I know is this: I can't hide it any longer, and I really can't explain it. The next time somebody asks, I'll say, "Yes. These earrings ARE new." I don't care. I'm not sorry. Stuff is awesome and you know it.
Anybody who has ever seen me attack the chili hot dogs at happy hour knows I don't waste food, and I recycle - I promise. I even hide it pretty well - I've been described as frugal. I pay my electricity bill before I use my Express card.
But deep down, I am constantly aware of my dirty little secret: I love to shop.
I crave that familiar rush I get when I whip out my credit card and boot up my laptop. Shopping for boots gives my best friend and I conversation topics for at least a week.
I anticipate and plan my "stuff binges" for weeks. Every girl knows the post-stuff binge ritual: spread it all out on your bed, figure out which shoes to wear with your new outfit, carefully hang it on your closet. It's so satisfying. "Yessss," I think.
I am wracked with guilt about my vice. I'm a good person, a totally normal girl from a normal small town. Watching "My Super Sweet 16" makes me sick; I cannot make it past the first 10 minutes of the show.
I worked through high school and I work now. And I'm aware of the fact that I've had a lucky life, and am fortunate to be able to attend school and get a degree. There's really no explanation for the obsession.
But how surprising is it, really? It's no news that we live in a materialistic society where racking up the credit card debt has become a social norm. Where else could "Confessions of a Shopaholic," a story about a kooky, plucky young girl who indulges in shopping to the point of financial ruin, become not only a bestseller, but also a major motion picture?
We're told retail therapy is good for everyone: good for us, good for the businesses and good for the economy. But since when is Macy's a small business? And when I ordered new Asics from Zappos.com, the plummeting stock market didn't take a sudden leap. We still keep buying things, even though it doesn't fix anything.
Maybe it's the sense of accomplishment that comes from paying your bills and having enough left over to buy yourself a little something.
Maybe it's the "good to be bad" feeling that comes from voting Democratic and then shopping at Urban Outfitters.
All I know is this: I can't hide it any longer, and I really can't explain it. The next time somebody asks, I'll say, "Yes. These earrings ARE new." I don't care. I'm not sorry. Stuff is awesome and you know it.
Viewing Comments 1 - 2 of 2
Bob
posted 9/26/08 @ 1:36 AM CST
What was this? "Stuff" is OK? I love "stuff"? "Stuff" is awesome? If this wasn't comedic for being so sporatically written, it would be complete garbage. (Continued…)
Bob
posted 9/26/08 @ 1:43 AM CST
A second read (because my mind was boggled by the first) and its growing on me...her sarcasm is funny, but not well announced. It really takes a couple reads just to get any idea of what she is getting at or what she is talking about. (Continued…)
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