The Shopping Fix

The other day in the middle of a rather fascinating conversation about news, politics and other worldly events I said to my friend, “I really feel like shopping.” He replied that he too felt the urge – and he never likes to shop unless it’s for food. We both blamed this pre-holiday retail advertising blitz and went on with our regularly scheduled programming, so to speak.

But, I find myself returning to this seemingly innocuous comment…”I feel like shopping.” Notice I didn’t say, “I need to buy pants,” or “I still have Christmas gifts to buy.” No, I said I feel like shopping the way I would have observed that I felt like eating or wanted to take a nap. But unlike being hungry or tired shopping doesn’t have a physiological state connected to it – or does it. So, I keep asking what made me “feel” like shopping? And what does “shopping” mean, exactly.

Well, I know what shopping should mean: we have a need for something and we go to a store or two to find the object that best fits that need and we purchase it. In my life, that description may only apply about 10% of the time when I go “shopping.” Think about it…of all the things we buy, how many do we really need? Maybe soap, toilet paper, light bulbs, toothpaste and dog food. Even human food is a gray area. I mean do I need pretzels or scallops or mushrooms? Can’t man live by bread alone? And speaking of bread, did I really need to buy the fancy loaf with pecans and raisins? Even when we go grocery shopping something other than our bare bones basic needs are coming into play. We want to satisfy something far more insidious than hunger.  We want treats, flavor, spice – we want food that will provide excitement and comfort in addition to (let’s hope) nutrition. So, perhaps that’s what we’re looking for when we “go shopping.”

I know that when I made this remark earlier in the week, I was still reeling from my Thanksgiving with family. Despite all my years of actual experience, I still have expectations of people showing up on time, being grateful, polite and patient, of things going the way I planned, of adolescent family members pitching in and so on. And when these expectations are dashed – as they always are – I feel defeated and depressed. Not to mention the fact that I ate chips and dip, cheesecake, gravy and a multitude of other foods that I have avoided in the past several months as part of my new healthier regimen. Although they were great in the moment, they also left me with bizarre cravings and a shallow sense of regret. I spent two days or recovering on my coach, isolating and taking comfort in doing nothing but watching TV and reading magazines.

Then came the shopping urge. It’s really not that surprising.  Just like eating, drinking alcohol or using drugs, shopping can provide that initial high that alleviates -- albeit temporarily -- those negative feelings. Furthermore, the act of shopping gives us an odd sense that we are somehow controlling our environment. Although I am powerless over the actions of my family or the crowds on the street, or the delayed subway train, but I do have the ability to buy that sparkly sweater and feel better for a bit. Well, until I look at my Visa statement a few weeks later.

Like any addiction, shopping has its consequences. Experts predict that Americans will spend more than $470 billion dollars on shopping this holiday season That’s a lot of money no matter how you look at it – in fact, it’s more than the GDP of many nations. And it's about half of what  Americans will give to charities in an entire year, (no judgment, of course.) When you think of what good could be accomplished with those funds it's staggering and shameful.

But perhaps more frighteningly, that $800 or more per family spent on Christmas gifts is more than most of us can afford. Sadly, many people choose to shop when their finances are in trouble in order to mask the fear surrounding debt. The act of shopping not only lifts our spirits (temporarily) but, because it flies in the face of reality, of their financial situation it provides a good healthy dose of denial. If they can plunk down their credit card and pick up that new X-Box or leather jacket, how can they actually be in trouble, right? The problem gets worse, and then oddly enough, they want to go out shopping.

The shopping addiction isn't just prevalent at Christmas, of course, it’s year round. But what makes Christmas shopping worse is that we’re given an extra license to indulge in spending money on stuff – in fact, there’s a cultural imperative to do so. Black Friday is now nearly as entrenched in our Thanksgiving traditions as is the poor old turkey and post-dinner bloat and lethargy. It’s now the American way.

So that makes me truly American. I do love to shop. I have an awareness of what it means, but I do it anyway. I make the joke that it’s in my blood and I have no choice. My parents met while both working and the now defunct but once renowned department store, B. Altman’s. My mother continued her career in retail and worked for Macy’s in Brooklyn for more than 20 years. She was always grateful for a job that enabled her to shop while she was working.

As someone who no longer has a steady income, I know that I should NOT be shopping for sport anymore. But I can always find a “reason”: my sister’s in town and that’s how we bond; I have no pants that fit me anymore since I lost weight; tis the season; I want to try that new intensive hair mask I read about in InStyle;  The truth is that my sister and I would be better off taking a nice long walk; I don’t have as many pants that fit me as I used to, but I do have enough pants; the season shouldn’t be about materialism but about friends, love and good spirits,;and I can make a hair mask out of the coconut oil I have in my pantry.

Trying to curb our shopping addiction will not come easy. We are bombarded by messages telling us to shop: television, emails, facebook, store windows, magazines and catalogs reach us everywhere we go. They convince us that we need when we really want; we are assured by merchants that these sales are actually saving us money; our credit card companies are more than happy to extend our limits; we are told we are doing our part for the economy; and our post-purchase endorphins provide a delicious but insidious fix that needs to be fed as soon as it dissipates.

So let me tell you what I’m going to do and maybe you’ll choose to join me. When I get that urge to “shop” I’m going to think it through and ask myself a few questions: why do I feel this way, what’s happening right now? If I’m in a store or about to click on an online retailer’s site I will ponder the question of need over want. I will take a thorough survey of my current wardrobe so I know what I really need, if anything. (And if you look at my messy closet it's pretty clear I don't need a thing!) And knowing that those endorphins can kick in even if I’m buying something for my husband, mom or dog, I will ask myself if those loved ones can get along without that new pair of gloves, tea kettle or chew toy respectively.

It’s not going to be easy but neither will my retirement if I keep buying new pants.

Merry Christmas to you all.