Shopping troubles me

 

(Poster for Au Moine Saint-Martin in The Poster in History by Max Gallo, Hamlyn 1972)

Whatever happened to shopping? It used to be fun.

These days, my enthusiasm for shopping has dwindled to almost zero. I am sure I am not alone in saying that I find clothes shopping particularly demoralising. My actual size is usually something like the secret floor in Being John Malkovich, mysteriously stuck somewhere between L and XL. And the dreaded change-room experience is something like the last scene of All About Eve, but even more chilling, and with added love handles.

Last weekend I set off with gritted teeth, clenched fists and an optimistic wallet, determined to buy myself some sort of goddamn treat. I have been a good boy of late, keeping my head down, working hard and staying off the turps. I have been squirrelling away my pennies for a forthcoming overseas jaunt (Only 36 sleeps to go. I should know. I have been scratching them on the wall in crossed fives, with my own blood, like a delusional convict). I demanded some instant gratification, some distraction from creeping time, and convinced myself that I deserved it. Needless to say, I was thwarted. Instant gratification was nowhere to be found on the boulevards of Adelaide.

I looked at all manner of objets but felt disappointed and paralysed with indecision.  I have learned my lesson about impulse buying. Consequently, something as simple as buying a cucumber could involve at least five reconnaissance missions. I soon resigned myself to the fact that I may well go home empty handed. It also takes a lot to drown out the austere voices of my childhood which admonish that objets will not, or, more accurately, should not make me happy. I was always haunted by the Bible Story of the Rich Fool and his silos of grain. That said, I liked the bit before he died and went to hell and all that.

Lest I sound like I am on a high horse, let me say that objets can and do make me happy. The frippery I surround myself with helps me construct a comforting little retro fantasy that distracts me from the fact that my life is far from the glamorous, world-conquering existence I dreamed of as a child.

The day was not entirely a wash out. As I traipsed, stoop-shouldered under grey skies, a whole raft of happy memories started to filter into my consciousness. I wandered into dusty corners I had not visited since I was a tyke. I thought about when shopping "in town" was something to look forward to. Travelling in on the bus with Mum or a sister on a Saturday (everything was closed on Sunday). Getting dressed up for the day in my 'trendiest' outfit. Having a cappucino or maybe even a cheese roll or something fancy like a quiche at a cafe. Maybe even seeing a film at a cinema long since demolished. Mum buying dresses that I was told not to tell Dad about. Lustfully fingering coffee table books stacked up on remainder tables. It was not often that we bought them (unless they were drastically reduced), but just knowing that they were there was comforting. Buying posters. Incense. Singles. Badges. All those book and record shops which have disappeared or been taken over by chains. What does "in town" mean these days? It seemed then that anything could be found "in town". Now it seems the opposite is true. It seems that anything can be found on the net. Which is not as much fun. And, alas, does not involve cheese rolls.

Comments

[Elizabeth]

Oh, if only I had been with you! I'm the best co-shopper ever, and am always great at helping friends figure out what they really want finding it for them to buy. (Thus, I get all the joy of shopping with none of the guilt of spending money.)

That being said, it does get harder and harder to find those perfect "things." I used to try on clothes and 90% of what I tried on looked adorable on me. Now that I'm older and lumpier, the percentage of successes had dropped considerably. Sigh.

And the whole going into town in trendy outfits, seeing and being seen, is so long gone (though my teens are doing it now with skill and passion). Well, I hope you went home, had a cheese roll, and bought something on ebay!

[a thousand shades of twilight]

I can imagine you'd be a superb shopping mate! It would be more fun with you there, no doubt..

I know what you mean about "perfect" things. I seem to have it in my head that i should be able to walk out of the house and pick whatever I feel like off a tree. Like Charlie and the Chocolate Factory or something.

Actually I did go home and order a book from the internet. It's called "It's another World Record". And, yes, it's all about my beloved World Record Club. And it's not available in the shops. So look as I might, I would never have found it in 'real life'...

Sigh!

[Jacanegra]

I so enjoy your writing!

[Lizzy]

Elizabeth is a bit of a shopping goddess. She's working on a brown suede long fringe jacket for me as we speak, and it was with her that I found my prom dress for a whopping $4.95, and other highly memorable outfits of the like.

I've spoken to a lot of my friends about this issue, and the guys in the group seem to share your opinion about web shopping (in that most things can be found this way). Some even think that shopping will eventually die. I only partially agree with them. In certain circumstances, online shopping has been a huge comfort for me. I always, for instance, buy my sneakers online, which saves me the epic trip to at least 3 stores where I can't find the style I like at the price I want and so on and so forth. Electronics are similar, and occasionally books (as I refuse to give in to the chains on this one; they think they own knowledge!)

In my past conversations on this matter, however, I've contended (as I think you do too) that the old-school ritualistic shopping trip fulfills a certain primal need, which both comforts and sates us, and drives us to pursue other such endeavors in the future. As Elizabeth has told me (shopping goddess that she is), it helps us pretend that we have an ounce of control over a very small part of our lives. I totally agree; a great shopping trip gives me a giddy high that takes at least a few days to come down from. I feel in control of my destiny, or at least what I'm wearing! That said, a very bad shopping trip can leave me feeling like an utter failure, and I end up feeling more disgusted with my self (both physically AND emotionally) than I did before!

So it's a risk we all take on our grand crusades to achieve shopping nirvana, but 100% worth it, come hell (thanks for the warning Rich Fool!) or high water (here's a tissue...). In other words, try it again, kiddo! Shopping still is fun, you're just in a rut. Maybe this time you'll come back with more than happy memories :P

[a thousand shades of twilight]

Ah, Lizzie, I enjoyed reading your comments!

You are so right! I don't think shopping is going to die. I was talking about this to a bookshop owner the other day, and he said that sales continue to be healthy. It's much more fun to browse and actually handle a book (especially one with nice pictures) and have the instant gratification of walking out of the shop with it! Waiting for things to come in the post KILLS me!!

My main frustration is when I have to shop for things like work clothes - it seems like dead money to me, a necessary evil. I mean, that money I'm spending on a business shirt could be better spent on old photographs or records! It pains me!!

I must also add a rider to the above entry in that second-hand shopping is a different matter altogether. I find THAT extremely relaxing. I get into an almost trance-like state and it's a really effective way to block out the world!

And it doesn't surprise me that Elizabeth is a Shopping Goddess - I have long marvelled at her unfailing eye! :)