Fantasising About Consumerism
Why does it feel so good to buy stuff we don't need?
My Financial Reservations
I feel the need to start this essay off with a disclosure: I’m the opposite of a spender. Like many people in their early to mid twenties, I’m not exactly in the position to be buying anything and everything I want. A good deal of restraint is a part of my life and it’s something I’m actually quite proud of.
I only eat out with friends (which is social time more than it is food time), I never use food delivery services, I rarely buy new clothes, I avoid subscriptions wherever possible and hardly travel (I’m tied down for the meantime).
The point I’m trying to get across is that financially speaking, I live a pretty reserved life; and I like it that way. My reservation is a matter of principle: the act of being seduced into spending my money is more upsetting to me than losing the cash itself. In other words, my passion for not wasting money comes from a deep dislike for the many ways in which the world tries to seduce me into spending it every day. I suppose my financial reservation is somewhat of a screw you to the world we live in, the world that would gleefully take everything I have if only I had less self-control.
I have no problem paying for groceries or fuel or electricity or any of the other essential services our world runs on; I see the value. I know my life is much better off with all these things in it, as such, I don’t feel bad spending money on them. However, I can’t stand being seduced into unnecessarily spending my money. The idea that someone could seduce me into spending my money on something I didn’t even want is an insult to my intelligence and I can’t in good conscience stand by and let myself be taken advantage of like that.
There’s one thing I’ve come to learn in this world and it’s that if you don’t protect your money, people will steal it from you under the guise of marketing. They’ll trick you into thinking you want what they’re selling so that you don’t feel as if you’ve been robbed, but I’m sorry, robbery is robbery even if you don’t realise you’ve been robbed.
There are a lot of people/businesses/institutions that deserve money for the work they do in this world, but there are just as many that couldn’t survive without tricking you into spending your money on them. Why? Because you, we, don’t actually need them; they’re just good at marketing. And you’re fully welcome to purchase their products, that’s not for me to decide, but I refuse to.
Entranced. Enticed. But Not, Purchased.
What I’m trying to get at in the previous paragraphs is that I’m not much of a consumer. Although, I do enjoy going to shopping centres; for the spectacle of it all.
It’s stimulating to walk the seemingly kilometre long hallways of my local mega shopping centres staring at all the perfectly curated or equally ravished shelves offering me anything and everything I could want.
I suppose I feel as if I’m in an art gallery at times, looking at all the artwork on display. Yet no, these artworks are made to be sold. I can’t help but be amazed by the perfectly clean floors and variety of lights either setting the mood or effectively illuminating potential purchases. Shopping centres are like a hall of mirrors, reflecting back to us all the potential futures we could have if only we bought something on offer.
But I’m not a purchaser, I just like to marvel at the sight of it all. From time to time I see something I like, I then quickly remind myself that I had no desire for what's on offer before I knew it existed, therefore my desire was “manufactured.” Once again I’m reminded of how easy it is to give my money to someone, or something, that I had no idea existed only moments ago.
Cash Rules Everything Around Me
Has anyone noticed how much harder it is to make money than it is to spend it? I could easily spend $10,000 in one purchase, in fact people do it all the time. Yet how long would it take to make that money back? Even for the high income earners amongst you?
The efficient transfer of money is in the interest of anyone who wants to make money, which is basically everyone, hence why it’s so easy to spend money. The world is set up to make it as easy as possible for you to spend your money, which isn’t all bad of course, it’s actually quite convenient if you have self-control, but if you don’t? Your money will get funnelled away as fast if not faster than you can earn it.
It’s easier to spend than it is to earn, by design.
And it’s for this exact reason that I consider all my purchases closely. I refuse to be taken advantage of just because I couldn’t exercise self-control. I accept that sometimes we’re not in the position to refuse a payment, and that’s just life. We have to live by the rules of the system, like every functioning game the rules must be followed to some degree as too much anarchy will collapse the system, and I’m not trying to collapse anything, I just don’t want to waste my money on things I don’t need.
My Hidden Desires Have Come Knocking
Such as this morning when I dropped my cutting board and it broke in half. I quite like having something to prepare my food on, so I embarked on my yearly trip to IKEA. I must admit I’ve never actually bought anything from there before, I just like to walk around and look at all the stuff; dreaming of the materialistic lifestyle I’m so heavily against.
I sit on the couches, play with the interactive lighting, marvel at the fact that I’m in a room which is entirely for sale, and dream about turning my world into one surrounded by IKEA stuff that is slightly better than the stuff I already have. But I never actually buy anything, because I don’t actually need anything. I buy what I need when I need it, I don’t shop for fun. But like a good book, fantasy is a powerful force; sell the dream not the product, they say.
I’m aware of the trap I’ve walked into yet trust myself enough to untangle myself from the web before I get stuck; a trust which is the product of my disdain for being seduced into spending money. I would feel upset at myself for wasting money on things I don’t actually need, a feeling which is stronger than any joy I might get from my unnecessary purchases.
My pleasure comes from the marvel that is consumerism. The endless potential things I could have if I wanted to. I have money, I can buy whatever I like, all this stuff is for me. I don’t know what it is but it’s like a drug.
Why do I want stuff that I don’t even want? I went to IKEA to purchase a cutting board, now I’ve got my cutting board but I also want to go for a wander. I found this beautiful mug I liked, it was translucent amber and dark green, reminiscent of a simpler time that really spoke to my inner old person, the one who loves 60s French pop and vintage furniture; but I didn’t buy it. I didn’t even look at the price, it was probably less than $10, anyone could fit that into their budget. That’s not the point though.
The point is, I don’t need a mug. I have plenty of mugs at home, I bought nice glasses once and I never use them because when I’m thirsty, I don’t care what my drinking vessel looks like, I just want a drink. I didn’t need the mug so I didn’t buy it, even though I still want it.
And I know that’s the right thing to do, but somehow it’s still so hard. How is the desire to buy things I don’t even need so strong? Where does this desire come from? I continued my walk through IKEA.
I went looking through the kitchenwares for something else to buy, even though I knew damn well I wasn’t going to buy anything other than that chopping board; doesn’t even make sense. It’s as if I was living out the fantasy of getting to buy something whilst simultaneously not actually having to buy anything. Similar to the way in which people watch porn, they get the fantasy of a sexual experience with none of the commitment.
Consumerism really is a drug. And I got to tease myself by getting a whiff of what was being smoked without actually having to smoke anything myself.
But I decided it was time to leave with what I had come to get despite my desire to tour the upper floor, the one I normally walk. Having collected my chopping board content that the price on the screen matched the item in my hand, I already knew it would because I checked, I’ll be damned if I grab the wrong item and over pay, I walked out the front door happy I only bought what I needed. However, I couldn’t help but notice how wonderful it had been to indulge in my consumerist fantasy.
Like I said, I see shopping as a necessity, not as entertainment. And that’s not to say it can’t/shouldn’t be enjoyed, but you’ve got to have some self-control, that’s all. I accept my line in the sand is probably a little too close for some people, and that’s ok, but it works for me
The joy of what could be is a feeling I rarely partake in these days. I’m familiar with it because I was once a fan of buying everything I desired with no thought for whether I really needed any of it. But over the years I learnt that the pain of wasting money, more notably running out of it, was way worse than the pleasure of spending it on things I really didn’t need. In the same way that a full set of healthy and clean teeth is much more enjoyable than the can of Coke a day that could so easily jeopardise such contentment.
Consumerism is a fantasy, a fantasy that robs you of reality the more you invest yourself into it. The concept of fantasy in and of itself is certainly not evil, in fact it can be quite the opposite if used the right way. But the important thing to remember is that fantasy is not reality, by definition, and as soon as you try to make fantasy reality, you end up living in one. In other words, you’re no longer attached to reality; such is the case with people who try to buy their way to happiness.
Forever running on the hamster wheel of consumerism trying to fulfil their insatiable desire to feel how they felt when they last bought stuff. As a former drug user, I would like to remind you that this is exactly how drug addiction works. You take a substance that alters your state of experience, usually quite pleasurably so, eventually you come back to reality (sobriety) and then dream about how soon you can get back to being high. But it’s all a fantasy, a sick trick that makes you think pleasure is only found when you take your drug of choice, and for some it’s true! But not because drugs or consumerism is the answer to happiness. It’s because they’re searching to fill the void, for something to make them feel good in an often so negative world.
Though there are many pathways to sustained joy: meaningful connections, finding purpose, and investing in health (physical and mental), amongst other things. All of which takes time, sometimes a lot of time.
And buying things is only a quick fix. It feels good, as I was reminded today. But just like drugs, it only lasts so long, you’ll have to go back and buy something else, something better, again and again. The more you buy, the more you realise that buying stuff isn’t actually as fulfilling as you once thought, so you need to buy even more to make up for it; this is exactly how drug tolerance works. The more you take, the more you get used to it, the more you need to take to get the same result.
Need I remind you the body is a chemical factory, and that little burst of pleasure you get when you buy something is actually the result of chemical changes in your body. And chemicals are chemicals regardless of whether they’re made inside or outside the body; the addiction mechanism functions the same.
Consumerism isn’t like a drug, it is a drug.
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