Shopping is what memories are made of
Most of my friends know I hate shopping. Friends who don't know this character quirk have never accidentally shopped with me. I brag that I am a hunter; When I search for something I need, my creed is: get in, get it and get out. I try to avoid shopping online, because I hope that future generations will be able to enjoy hunting for a sales clerk and the benefits of having brick and mortar stores to buy something they need that day. However, one day all the stores will be gone, drones will deliver packages to our doorsteps and I'll find something new to complain about.
For now, I view shopping as a task, like doing the laundry and cleaning the house before a visit from my mother.
My disdain for idle browsing has caused me to be intolerant of the habits of the majority of folks who actually enjoy touching fabric, comparing items they have no intention of owning and digging into big bins of sale items other shoppers have already rejected.
Yet, I've recently realized there are more reasons to enjoy shopping than an escape from boredom or the fleeting rush of adrenaline that comes with buying a new flouncy skirt. This week I attended presentations by the group of international educators who are in Chico as part of my work with international training. One teacher chose shopping and money as the backdrop for a useful vocabulary lesson. She began the teaching session with an electronic poll that asked each member of the audience to share one word about shopping. I chose not to participate because I felt my views would not be helpful nor appreciated.
• Relaxation
• Gifts for family
• Fun
These are understandable reactions, even though I feel there is nothing particularly relaxing about repeatedly telling salespeople that I don't need any help and scanning the shop like the Terminator on the hunt for John Connor.
Then a word appeared on the projector screen that made me pause.
Part of my job with the international groups is to take participants to San Francisco. When we plan the visits we hope to package a series of memorable moments — a walk across the Golden Gate Bridge, the toss of a frisbee at Ocean Beach, the smell of seals at Pier 39. At no point would I imagine fishing through messy stacks of hoodies at the “everything under $10” store would make the list of “top 10 things to do in San Francisco.”
Yet, when the word “memories” popped up on the list of reasons to enjoy shopping, I realized I sometimes view the world through a narrow lens.
I may rush in and out of my local Walmart, but I do browse when I travel. Most of my spending far from home is not on collectable art or local handcraft. My refrigerator holds hundreds of dollars of magnets, the majority of which
are made in China and purchased at train stations. One of my prized possessions is a $9 denim jacket from Walmart, covered in patches I bought from gift shops in places like Valley of the Giants, Istanbul and the dock near a cruise ship in Alaska. I call it my $40,000 jacket.
When my friends from other countries return home next week, they'll fondly think of their day in San Francisco, with the brief visit by a rainbow above the Ferris Wheel along the Embarcadero. I snapped the photo of the rainbow while I was waiting outside of the gift shop. Gerele of Mongolia will wear her plastic boots from Lulu's in downtown Chico and remember her hike in the rain from Van Ness to Lombard Street. The teachers will bundle up in $10 hoodies emblazoned with “Golden State,” and smile when a husband dangles his keychain with the image of California's extinct grizzly bear.
I also now realize there is another word that can be added to the list of shopping benefits: receiving.
This week I was in the middle of a circle of international teachers who admired my multicolored outfit. One woman was pleased to be using some new American vocabulary.
“Let me see if I can use this word right,” she said, smiling with newfound knowledge. “Your outfit is funky.”
I decided to take this as a compliment.
This led to a longer-than-necessary explanation of the origins of my memorabilia.
The bright coral sweater was a gift from Limia of Qatar, who decided my clothes were too drab and I should cheer myself with pink. My bracelet was a gift from Africa and my earrings from Armenia. My new little cell phone purse is from Valya of Armenia and my layered sweater is from my Handsome Woodsman old clothes collection. The scarf of many colors was a gift from Dinara from my recent visit to Kyrgyzstan. By the time I was done with the wardrobe tour I realized my funky style is the result of much memorabilia and that people enjoyed shopping for these items.
I likely will never be a fan of shopping for shopping's sake. However, I now realize shopping with others in mind, especially if I am eventually the recipient, is not necessarily a waste of time.