Single gals take heed: Marriage, family and a house in the suburbs – it’s a trap!
I’m thinking this as I stand in line at Costco with the rest of suburban America, wondering how I got here? My cart holds multiple loaves of bread for the freezer, 24 paper towel rolls, a salon-size container of shampoo – not even my favorite brand, but cheap – and a case of fruit roll-ups for the kids. I flash back 20 years to a time when I was in a slick corporate job, lived in a low-maintenance condo, wore Adrienne Vittadini and went on crab cake-and-Merlot dates.
Next thing I know, I have an SUV full of car seats, am wearing the same jeans I’ve had on for last three days, and am buying bulk diapers and detergent. Shopping at the big-box means the romance is over.
How did I go from refined and pared-down to merchandise magnet? I have a theory: Evolution. The genes that tripped our hunter-gatherer instinct have gone into overdrive – that’s the technical genetic term – and we have became a species of Super Hoarders.
I look at the other Super Hoarders around me at Costco as they lean on overloaded carts and I want to scream, “Enough already!” I resent stocking up my already over-stocked house, but here I am, a prime example of American consumerism.
The guy next to me is buying a case of A1 Steak Sauce.
“Do you have a restaurant?” I ask.
“No, we just like it,” he says.
Geesh! A tablespoon would last most people a year. But who am I to talk, with my half-gallon of peanut butter. Sure, we’re all getting volume discounts. But let’s forget discount for minute and think about volume.
As a child I was taught to pray: “Give us this day our daily bread …” not “our annual supply of Cheetos!” My older brother taught me more than anyone how to successfully compete for our planet’s limited resources (like Oreos). “Don’t be a hog,” he told me every day of childhood. That was a good message.
I get like this every January – after the season of hyper consumption – when winter’s harsh light illuminates my overstuffed cupboards. I walk to the curb, where I leave garbage bags and bring in bills, and think about going back in time. Not to a smaller place, bigger job and no family, but to a time when people spent less, wasted less and lived better.
I don’t know where to start, but it’s probably not at Costco. I’ve heard top executives at merchandising giants like it concede that America is, in fact,overstocked. Customers fill their carts with low-priced merchandise and in the process forget to look for purchases they connect with emotionally.
In Europe, on the other hand, smaller stores stock beautiful, expensive merchandise because Europeans typically buy less, buy better and keep things longer. Their hearts don’t skip a beat at the sight of a Blue Light Special, because they haven’t been conditioned in the same way.
It’s true that I’d rather have one bar of hand-milled, lavender-citrus soap than six bars of whatever’s on sale. So, replacing quantity with quality is one way we can live better with less.
Marni Jameson is a nationally syndicated columnist who lives in the Denver area. You may contact her through marnijameson.com.
Tips for streamlining your life
Nancy Stedman is executive editor of Quick & Simple, a magazine devoted to helping people streamline their lives. She recommends these steps:
Buy in proportion to your lifestyle. Volume buying does have advantages, but when your pantry has so many ketchup bottles that you could service concession stands at your local sports arena, cut back.
Carry a card in your wallet that has these questions: Do I need it, love it and will it last? Do I already have something like it? Can I borrow or get one another way? How many hours will I have to work to pay for this? Consult the card every time you’re about to buy something.
Find out what your junk is worth. People hang on to stuff because they think it’s valuable. Surf over to eBay and find out for sure. You might be surprised.
Give away anything you’re not using to someone who can use it.
Attempt a trial separation from belongings you just can’t seem to divorce yourself from. Stedman knows a woman who stashed away knickknacks before a party. She rediscovered the stash months later, and realized she hadn’t missed it.
Reduce, reuse, recycle. That well-known “green” mantra proves good for the planet, our homes and our mental health. I’d like to add one more: Refuse. Stop overbuying. Ignore the ads, volume discounts and coupons from our overstocked, overstored world and start putting hard-earned resources toward worthier causes.
