MODERN LIFE
Aha. Finally, the news we were waiting for! Shops will reopen on June 12, which is (apart from the date when we can finally get a haircut) all we’ve really wanted to hear.
Of the many things we’ve learnt in lockdown – two people cannot work in one garden; video calls make you paranoid; even the most sensible feminists can be weirdly competitive when it comes to bread-making – the big one is that shopping is genuinely one of life’s top pleasures and we’re not giving it up.
We thought we’d have to, as we glumly stocked up on tuna and tinned tomatoes back in March. It felt like this was it, the end of shopping as we have known it: no more browsing the spice aisle in Waitrose, wondering what you do with dried barberries; no more trying on lipsticks at the make-up counter or wedging into a changing cubicle in Zara with your best friend and 12 potential party outfits. No more squeezing avocados, smelling melons, popping on pierced earrings and shoes from the discount rack, or drifting into your local bookshop to sit on the floor in the corner and read a few chapters of something from the recommended table. And we were right – shopping will look very different when we get back out there – but in the past 10 weeks we’ve learned to adapt, work around the problem, and there’s a lot more on the way.
Here are the new rules of shopping AC (After Covid), so far:
Not being able to see, touch, try, is no obstacle to buying
We thought it was, but even if we can’t touch and try, we’re going to buy, regardless. What’s been remarkable about the lockdown is how many of us have bought things online that we would previously never have dreamed of buying without first seeing them in the flesh. I’m talking about carpets and furniture and even houses (see the recent record-breaking sale of a London property after a virtual tour only). There’s been a spike in online sales of paintings, to cheer up the homes that we’re so bored of staying in (risky but thrilling and good for artists). BC, the rule with clothes was that you should never ever buy shoes and swimwear without trying them on first. That one has gone the way of pink and red should never be seen together. The AC rule is get it from somewhere reliable so you can send it back.
We’ve narrowed the reasons for shopping down to two: necessity and feeling good
BC, shopping in real shops fulfilled one of four basic needs: practical (you needed shampoo); comfort (you wanted to treat yourself); excitement (the shampoo came from the shop that made you feel like a contender); self-distraction (could have been shampoo, could have been ketchup… just wanted to shop, really). Now we’ve done away with three and four and sort of merged them with the first two, so we’re shopping for things we need that also make us feel good about ourselves.
There are still life’s necessities to buy, but AC, you won’t catch us browsing online for a pair of plastic earrings (we’ll get the gold and pearls pair we really want and leave it at that for the rest of the year). Ditto, sheets (upping the thread count); paint (get the shade you want from the classy brand, because you can’t get it copied now); books (craving a lovely fat hardback), and so on. Out of necessity, we’ve honed our shopping habits and now we always go for better quality over the quick fix. We’ve got picky and we’ve picked up posh habits (some of us used to buy our meat and wine in Tesco and now, guess what? It’s the Ethical Butcher and Berry Bros all the way).
There is no reason why you shouldn’t buy anything online
That’s what we’ve discovered in the past 10 weeks and, for better or worse, it’s a revelation, on two counts. One: why schlep around a garden centre when you can get them to deliver a parasol and a fire pit without leaving your sun lounger? Two: you can accurately target your retail therapy in a way that we just weren’t doing before. For example, if I felt a bit low and sorry for myself BC, I might have shuffled off to Zara and bought some overknee boots and pleather trousers (both unwearable), then nipped to Space NK and spent the price of the boots on a sparkly eyeshadow (also unwearable) and then gone home and laid face down on the bed and wailed. Whereas during lockdown, I have occasionally experienced the lady blues, only this time I’ve switched on the laptop, dived into Google, and found that for an instant mood upswing (with no regrets) the answer is purchasing: one pair Swedish clogs; several lovely linen cushions; a cowhide rug; Philip Kingsley thickening shampoo and a Le Creuset casserole dish (not all at the same time obviously). Far more effective.
Men don’t like shopping in shops but they’re excellent online shoppers
So, now you have a bonding date night activity that you weren’t aware of 10 weeks ago and no more need to drag him around Ikea or make him sit in the bucket seat outside the changing room in Whistles while you quickly try on “one more thing”. Me and Him, side-byside on the sofa with a glass of wine, have so far bought a fridge, a garden parasol, a hurricane lamp and a clothes dryer, without so much as a cross word. Each of these purchases represents a separate shopping trip that could, BC, have ruined a Saturday afternoon.
We don’t miss assistants
Other than in bookshops. Awful to admit. But generally they make us feel bad (blank expression when we emerge from the changing room) or they make us feel too good (“that looks like it was made for you”), which has led to some bad mistakes over the years.
We don’t miss changing rooms
Same thing. Either they’ve done the angled mirror trick so you have the legs of Kaia Gerber (not your own!) or the overhead lighting makes you look like you’re wearing a body suit full of porridge. Both equally damaging.
We are much less likely to buy environmentally unfriendly, throwaway tat
This is largely because we spent the first two months of lockdown clearing out all the pointless stuff, from kitchen gadgets to kaftans, and we can’t go back there again.
The idea that you should never buy shoes and swimwear without trying them on has gone The new rules of shopping after lockdown
Seven lessons we have learnt about alternative ways to enjoy retail therapy