I’m over ‘retail therapy’
Shopping’s my happy place but it won’t make my stressful life go away, says Kerri Sackville.
Recently, while browsing online, I found the perfect solution for all the things that stress me out. And believe me, I had a lot of stress. My son was studying for his final school exams and tensions in our household were running high. My career was going through a period of uncertainty and I wasn’t sure how it would pan out. And my romantic life was at an all-time low, after a couple of catastrophically bad dates. But suddenly – unexpectedly – I found the answer. It was there, on my computer screen.
A coat.
This coat, I knew immediately, would fix all that was wrong in my life. It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. It was a rich grey, lightweight and would complement everything in my wardrobe. I couldn’t believe I had survived this long without it. There had been a rich-grey coatsized hole in my world and I hadn’t even noticed!
I had to buy it. I felt a deep sense of calm, and then a pressing sense of urgency as I proceeded to the checkout. I whipped out my credit card and started keying in the details.
And then I paused. Did I really want the coat?
Well, yes. I did. But should I buy it? Well … no. I shouldn’t.
You see, I already own several coats. Of course, I didn’t own that coat, and all those I own are woefully inferior, but, strictly speaking, I didn’t need it.
What’s more, if I was completely honest, I knew that the coat wouldn’t change my life. It might bring me pleasure for a day, or a week or two, but it wouldn’t actually make me happy.
I understand this only now, as I enter my 50th year. After all, I have fixated on other ‘‘perfect’’ items many times before: a black leather jacket, a white silk top, a pair of purple heels I wore once. None of them ended up fulfilling their promise.
Of course, I’m not the only one to fall for a retail fantasy. Many of my friends similarly obsess. They hone in on a classic pair of boots, or an ideal shade of lipstick, or a miracle anti-ageing cream, and are inevitably disappointed when they don’t change their lives forever.
Now, part of our materialism clearly stems from advertising and the media – we all want Kate Middleton’s jacket or Sharon Stone’s skin – but I think there is something deeper at play. Life is challenging and stressful and an endless juggle of priorities. We grow tired and anxious, we feel overwhelmed and we despair. And there is no quick fix that will produce well-behaved children, a thriving career and eight hours of sleep.
So we create a new problem to which there is a solution – in my case, a need for a new grey coat. I can’t fix all my problems but I can find that coat, and I can buy it and bring it home. Although the satisfaction will be transitory, it will be gratifying and real. It will soothe me for a while.
But it won’t change my life and it won’t make everything better. Fairly soon, the high will wear off and I’ll return to normal programming.
And eventually, of course, I’ll fixate on the Next Big Thing. A new pair of jeans – how could I have lived without them this long? – or a fluffy cardigan, or a tee?
But I know by now that a new coat isn’t really the answer, because the problem isn’t my wardrobe. The problem is myself. Instead of buying the coat, I sit with my feelings of stress. I remind myself that pain is a part of life, and not something to be chased away with things.
Or, at least, I will do that next time. Because I really wanted that grey coat. I paused just for a moment and then I clicked ‘‘purchase’’. My coat arrived in the mail a week later, and it is the most fabulous piece of clothing I’ve ever owned. It hasn’t changed my life, but gosh I look good now when I’m stressed. But, truly, I am never buying anything again. Although I really do need some new jeans …
What's more, if I was completely honest, I knew that the coat wouldn't change my life. It might bring me pleasure for a day, or a week or two, but it wouldn't actually make me happy.