Retail insanity
Thereâs a great article in Thursdayâs Guardian G2 by Clare Pollard, launching a scathing attack on the idea that âretail therapyâ is the answer to every womanâs problems. She reserves particular scorn for shopping for clothes or shoes.
Never mind that most of the world lives in poverty, and probably really âdeservesâ a bowl of grain, this monthâs Cosmopolitan gives a 10-step happiness plan that includes such âhappy stepsâ as âBuy those shoesâ and âGive yourself treats.â No mention of giving other people treats. Or buying other people shoes. You wonder how people in the middle ages didnât just die of misery, with no frappuccinos with which to reward themselves, and nothing to browse through on the high-street but cider and cheese.
How true. I feel like an alien sometimes. Iâm not keen on any kind of shopping (except for CDs, HiFi or computersâbut I donât get to do them very often), but I particularly detest shopping for clothes.
I would rather be gnawed to death by weasels than go clothes shopping. It wouldnât be so bad if I was the kind of standard-size woman that the high street caters for (if there is such a person). Then I could plan a commando-style operation, diving into the first shop with vaguely reasonable clothes, grabbing a selection of stuff, paying and getting the hell out of there. It would still be painful, but briefâlike ripping off a plaster really quickly. Alas, thereâs no possibility of this kind of thing; Iâm short and I have big hips, and most clothes donât fit, or donât fit in the right places.
A couple of years ago I had to buy an outfit for a wedding. Mr. Bsag (who quite likes buying clothes for me, but not himself) managed to cajole me into going shopping, but after a scant 15 minutes, I was completely fed up. We were in Monsoon, and he was trying to coax me into trying something on; âWhy donât you just try this on? It will look great on you.â I was whining like a little kid, âOh, canât we just go, I donât want to try anything on.â A couple of shop assistants were within earshot, and looked at us as if we had just defied the laws of gravity and floated up to the ceiling.
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I am really happy that someone has dared take a shot at this disgusting attitude. Greed is just greed, however you dress it up. It must have taken a little courage given that newspapers need the advertising that drives this strange consumer society that we live in. Whoever would have predicted 50 years ago that so much of the wealth of much of the West would be driven by selling people stuff they do not need, while the 3rd World barely gets by. No wonder so many young men there are attracted by Al Qaida and itâs ilk.----- I too detest clothes shopping, being a ânon standard sizeâ woman it just makes me depresed. When Iâm depressed I donât head for the shops, I head for somewhere with fresh air!
by Clair @ 25/04/2004 8:04 am • Permalink •
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I wish I had the money to go clothes shopping myself⦠no particular reason, Iâm just abnormal I guess
by Matthew @ 25/04/2004 10:04 am • Permalink •
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ThoughtBadger: Yes, I was pleasantly surprised by the article. Itâs not as if Iâm a nun and have no possessions, but I do find the idea of shopping as a leisure activity, and the relentless pursuit of things repellent.
Clair: Me too.
Matthew: Yep. :-D
by bsag @ 25/04/2004 5:04 pm • Permalink •
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by belonging @ 25/04/2004 9:04 pm • Permalink •
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