Black Friday, and the Christmas shopping season more generally, is an interesting phenomenon to observe if you can find a way to not be completely immersed in it. I’ve mentioned before that I find malls and other similarly crowded spaces to be overwhelming, so I have come to dread the Christmas gift buying process. I hate the idea of buying a gift just for the sake of having something to hand over at a pre-appointed time, so I always agonize over finding items that I can imagine sparking some small measure of joy in the recipient, which doesn’t make the process any easier. On a good year (and thankfully, this was a good year), I can find everything I need in one or two trips, and then blissfully sit out the rest of the season. Because I still partake in the experience, though, I’ve never really questioned it. Until now. I was at West Edmonton Mall last weekend for a kids’ Christmas party at Galaxyland, and saw all the stores prepped and ready for the holiday rush, and that’s when it struck me.
How bizarre and over-the-top this whole thing is!
The overflowing abundance of stuff, waiting to be bought. The artificial pressure to JUST FIND SOMETHING ANYTHING BEFORE IT’S TOO LATE AND OH IT’S ON SALE WHAT LUCK. People just scurrying about here, there, everywhere, like the world is about to run out of stuff.
Like I said, I’ve been there. I’ve been there and never thought twice about it. But now that I’ve had this jarring moment of clarity, I can’t un-see it. And I’m trying to sort out how I feel about it.
On one hand, I do love giving presents. I hate shopping for them, but I love to give them. I love the look on the person’s face when I’ve nailed the present. [Or maybe I simply appreciate their good acting skills, hah.] It’s as satisfying, if not more so, than receiving the perfect gift myself. Especially when it comes to my kids. My parents did what they could when I was growing up, with few resources, and I never forgot how magical it felt to find out what was hiding in Santa’s bag. I probably can’t replicate that feeling for my kids, because they don’t experience the same scarcity as I did the other 364 days of the year, but I still want to try – especially around the holidays.
On the other hand, I have noticed that I am increasingly bothered by too much stuff. And that includes my kids’ stuff and our (grown-ups’) stuff around the house. I have always been pretty ruthless when it comes to editing my closet, but I now feel compelled to apply the same approach to everything else. Which is not to say that I am a minimalist in any sense; I love being surrounded by beautiful things, and an empty uncluttered room will never match the satisfaction of the former. But I am becoming increasingly choosy. I want to give room in my life (physically and mentally) to things that matter to me – whether books, my favourite clothes, my collections – and sweep away the rest.
This is not revolutionary by any means; after all, Marie Kondo wrote a whole book about it. I’d heard the message (or some version of it) before but this is the first time when it’s come to me organically, accompanied by a sudden shift in perspective. The timing is not accidental. My husband and I have been thinking about the future a lot recently; we’ve started meeting with a “wealth advisor” (which sounds ridiculously bougie, I know) to talk through our plans – or should I say “hopes”? – for retirement. This is another new experience for me (and both of us, actually). Growing up poor but with thrifty parents, the concept of “saving for a rainy day” was well-ingrained in me, but planning? Intentionally deciding when and how to use that money? That was a foreign concept, because the goal was simply to not end up destitute – I didn’t grow up expecting to have “wealth” to worry about. Now, of course, our “wealth” is relative, which means we still have to make plans. Meet savings targets. Worry about investment returns. And, possibly most important of all, really think about what matters to us. When money is finite, putting that money – now and in the future – where our hearts are is the way to feel “rich” while still being able to pay the bills.
Another of the benefits of having the parents I do is that the concept of “keeping up with the Joneses” was unknown to me during my formative years. (Which is not to say that I didn’t desperately covet material things during my childhood and teenage years; I did. But I just accepted that I couldn’t have those things, end of story. I can’t imagine telling my father that I needed some particular pair of jeans because Susie at school had one; he would have looked at me as if I had two heads.) It seems to me that chasing the Joneses is a habit that’s learned early, and mighty hard to break. That said, our retail culture works damn hard to perpetuate it. I haven’t been completely immune to the lure or “More! Better!” myself. I would like to think that I’ve been selective about giving in to it, but my recent epiphany/moment of clarity was a push to question myself further.
Do I need this? is a good question. Perhaps the only question that should matter, but which, for some reason, sends me into an existential spiral. So, instead, I’ve started to ask myself something else:
Do I really want this?
I know; it seems like an invitation to cop out. In truth, I’m not really sure if this question would have worked for me in the past. When you grow up without a lot of things, and you suddenly have the option of acquiring them, knowing where to draw the line is hard. But I feel like I am finally starting to move past that scarcity mentality. I can now afford to have the thing – now, tomorrow, whenever the mood strikes. But do I really want it?
I don’t window-shop a lot online, but I will occasionally read a comment on a forum or on Instagram that sends me to a retailer’s website. Almost inevitably, I end up putting an item or two in my cart … and then I close the browser. Because the truth is that I certainly don’t need, and rarely truly want those things. They’re pretty, and I probably would enjoy owning them if I bought them, but they’re not things that I want more than anything else I could buy for the same amount. I’d rather take the same $40 and go thrifting; at the very least, I get an experience – the thrill of looking for treasure in other people’s rubbish, one of my favourite things – that I wouldn’t have had otherwise. And if I buy anything, chances are that it won’t make me any less happy than the thing I could have bought online. In fact, by virtue of having had to spend more effort in finding it, it’s probably going to mean more to me.
This has been one hell of a meandering post, and if you’re still reading, kudos and thanks. I don’t have a neat little bow of a moral to wrap around it because if there is one thing I’m learning, the older I get, is that speaking in definitives is a dangerous proposition. I do think we would all be happier if we spent more time thinking about what makes us truly happy, as opposed to assuming that what we are told by others should make us happy, actually does. But that is hardly a revelation.
I will end with this thought. A friend recently posted on social media about JOMO – the Joy of Missing Out. As a devoted homebody, I totally get JOMO when it comes to most experiences. Sky diving? No, thanks. Music festivals? I’d rather be reading. Travel? Yes, but only under specific circumstances. However, as a materialist, FOMO (Fear of Missing Out) was more my speed when it came to things; but I’m starting to get it now. Indiscriminately “more” is not better; even “buy less, but better” isn’t necessarily better. To me, JOMO isn’t about minimalism or some kind of virtue-signaling; it’s about finding out what matters to you and relishing the pleasure of excluding the surrounding “noise”. It’s the satisfaction of feeling like you already have all your heart’s desires, right there with you.
A quick note: I acknowledge that a lot of what I write above presumes a huge amount of financial and other forms of privilege. These are simply my random musings/observations (as an upper/middle class white woman) of and about my own behaviours, and no value judgments are intended or implied.
I feel the same way about the influx of STUFF. For me, it started with all the blogger posts about the Nordstrom Sale and it just turned me off. I think by thrifting, it opens your eyes to how insanely expensive the items can be in stores. After having a measure of success (and the thrill of the hunt) in finding items in thrift stores/consignment shops it can be hard to then turn around and pay full price for something.
Christmas is always a difficult one for me, because when someone (my parents or my husband) asks me what I want… I basically don’t want anything because we already have lots of STUFF. But I love opening gifts… I feel like my gift recipients may feel the same way and I hate the idea of giving them more junk they don’t actually want or need. Over the past few years, I’ve switched to mostly homemade and/or edible items for family gifts. That way if you don’t really want/need it, it can be consumed and disappear.
That’s such a good point. With close friends and family, I’ve been slowly shifting to more homemade and thrifted gifts. But I recognize that some people are not into that and I don’t want to offend them. But in those cases, I do like giving things that can be consumed easily – like chocolates, wine, restaurant or movie ticket passes.
My husband and I don’t buy each other gifts. We’re happy to do stuff or travel together but, honestly, there’s nothing I need. I think it’s because I’m an adult and most of my desires can be picked up on the cheap using my own money. The pleasure of Christmas as a kid was getting the stuff I couldn’t afford on my own.
The only thing I really worry about is my book collection. I don’t really collect things other than clothes (and that I prune regularly.) But books are an exception for me. I go back and forth between thinking that obviously a home with a library and loads of art is what I want and thinking that maybe my collection is a little insane. Do you ever prune your library?
Very rarely. I usually find some value in most books, even if I don’t end up loving them myself. Occasionally though, a book will be so bad that I’ll get rid of it.
I think of my library not only in terms of a personal library but also a family resource — others might like of be interested in different topics/genres than me.
I’m from a family home with walls covered in books.
In my own home? About 30, in a closed cupboard. I seldom buy books and when I do, I pass them onto someone or donate them. Otherwise, I read library books, always have 1-3 on the go!
The books I’ve kept are largely a collection of books bought whilst travelling all with the same topic: survival tales of Jewish people during WW2. I see it like a mini specialist library.
Thanks for sharing! I think I’ve been coming to some similar conclusions myself and over the past few years my purchases have really dwindled. (And it gets easier when I stop online browsing). I don’t read blogs as much as I used to, but I still sometimes feel some accessory stress–like how can a person use that much stuff/spend that much money! (And apologies if that sounds too judgmental). I think quality is one of the things for me–when I am looking to buy something, I generally prefer to browse in person because I generally can tell, oh, this isn’t quite right and I wouldn’t be happier with it. So, while I’d like to make people happy with gifts, this season can be a bit stressful for me, because I feel a gulf between what I’d like my love one to feel/experience and what I seem to end up buying for them. I just see a big difference in cost/price and the actual value, and that discourages my buying.
That’s fair. I try not to consume too much personal social media (I.e. blogs and personal IGs, etc.) and to treat it all as a form of entertainment – in other words, bearing no relation whatsoever to my own life. But sometimes, I struggle too! And I do get frustrated about the consumption glorification, and have to remind myself that it’s ultimately none of my business what other people post and/or read. And, of course, someone else could easily accuse me of doing the same sort of thing so … 🤷🏼♀️
Great post that touches on some things I’ve also been thinking about, particularly in terms of how my upbringing (as the child of immigrant parents who had very little when they arrived in the US and built a good life here) affects how I handle money and shopping and consumption. Some people would beg to differ on whether I really grew up knowing about the meaning of scarcity, but either way, I genuinely felt like there were some experiences of (relative) scarcity in my childhood. Now that I seem to be on track to have this chance to build a life of greater abundance, chances for wealth-building (if I hit my savings goals and investment returns turn out right), and maybe an easier time weathering what financial challenges may come later, I can hardly believe it! (And it feels like such an incredible privilege, but also an immense responsibility that’s a bit scary.)
I’d never heard of the JOMO term before, but I like that idea. It’s a good thing to be more confident of one’s choices, to be sure of what one values and what makes one happy. It’s a long process though, learning to tune out the noise! I’m finding, recently and to my surprise, that I’m actually not always that good at this when it comes to social media. I had prided myself on my belief that I was largely immune to FOMO or “comparison is the thief of joy”-type feelings because of other people’s Instagrams or blogs! Turns out I may have been wrong about that, though whatever I’m feeling is a small thing I’ll get over.
I did a fair bit of Black Friday shopping though, a lot of it for gifts for K and his parents (not too many other people in my life do Christmas gifts the traditional way), but also a few possible gifts for myself, if I keep them. The sales on the current season-ish items I’m most interested in for myself are generally only a little bit (10-15% better, maybe) than the sales I can expect to find most other times of year, but it can still be nice…
Funny anecdote: this was my husband’s first time trying to shop on Black Friday. He’s trying to build himself a new computer and was excited to find the parts on sale. He had been tracking the prices for about a week beforehand, and right around 10PM on Thanksgiving, they were all jacked up – some by as much as $150. Since then, they’ve come up and down randomly but the price overall is still higher than had he bought say, last Monday. He’s gutted. But that’s Black Friday hype for you. I also had a peek at online sales, and they weren’t good at all IMO. So I went thrifting instead, lol! I know, I’m very lucky as far as that goes.
I struggle a lot, and not just with money, when it comes to raising my kids in the shadow, as it were, of my own childhood. I’ve had to let go of the idea that I will be able to replicate all the (good) experiences and lessons I had as a child and trust that their path (with its own experiences and lessons) will still lead them to a similar place to where I ended up (healthy, content, mostly productive, financially secure adult).
What a timely post! It’s so important for us to think about the psychology and motivation behind our consumption–especially around the whole Black Friday/CyberMonday. As someone who has more financial security than I did as a child, I do worry about my consumption and its consequences–and even more so about my children, who haven’t faced the scarcity and feel like purchases such as whatever books they want are normal and expected. (At the same time, given the bevy of research on their positive impact, I don’t want to deny them shelvesful of books!) I don’t worry about keeping up with the Joneses–one of the many pleasures of small-town living–but questions about ethical spending and gift giving do rear up this time of year. My husband and I don’t exchange gifts, and for family, we tend to do personalized gift giving (i.e. calendars with drawings the kids made for each month), which has been more meaningful and less stressful than frantic holiday shopping. Anyway, kudos to you for bringing up this important topic and all best to you and yours.
Thank you and same to you!
Personalized calendars are a great idea! I think I’m gonna steal that for next year for the grandparents.
I unsubscribed from all retailers emails LAST year before Black Friday as the run up was driving me crazy. I’ve started packing up my stuff at bit at my parents and the amount of “stuff” is stressing me out. Their stuff, my kids stuff, my stuff. I just keep thinking, in my new house, I don’t want to have it crammed with stuff.
I’ve definitely been really good this year wrt clothes shopping (i.e. done naff all as we’ve been saving) and clearing unworn, tired, unloved stuff out. It still leaves me LOADS to wear and atm I don’t miss the high of new clothes. This is key for me I think, I still love clothes but at the moment what I have is currently keeping me happy enough and I don’t feel the need to keep up the with the Jones’ and accumulate more.