Are You Strong Enough to Join Me in One Year of No Shopping?

Do we need it, or are we simply spoiled?

Photo by Burgess Milner on Unsplash

I own two pairs of walking shoes, two pairs of hiking boots, and two pairs of court shoes. 

That’s six pairs of shoes, and I haven’t even counted the ballet flats, heels, boots, and sandals that fill the shelves of my closet.

My rational mind tells me I must alternate the athletic shoes, never wearing the same pair on two consecutive days.

 I heard they had to air out. Seriously? For over 24 hours? Hmmm. Could this be an advertising ploy, so we buy more?

I ordered undereye cream and was incorrectly sent and charged for two rather than one. I decided I’d keep the extra as I’ll eventually use it. No matter that one tube lasts at least six months. 

Don’t even get me started on how I shop when Athleta or Everlane, two of my favorite online retailers, have a sale or a “special” discount for loyal customers. Shameful, I’m afraid.

And books. Hey, it’s an education, a pastime, good for forging new brain neural pathways, right? 

My latest read is These Precious Days by Ann Patchett, a compilation of essays. 

In her article “My Year of No Shopping,” Ann relates how her friend Elissa inspired her not to buy one thing for an entire year.

Ann planned to give up buying articles to wear and whimsical things like electronic speakers that were not necessary.

 She could buy anything in a grocery store, including flowers. I like that one. I must have food and flowers, too.

She could buy shampoo, lip balm, and batteries, but only after her supply was used up.

Ann ran out of lip balm early into her no-shopping year. Before buying anew, she looked through her desk drawers and coat pockets and found five. In her search for lip balms, Ann discovered she had enough lotion, soap, and dental floss to last the next three years.

I bet you, and I could find an ample supply of these items under our sinks, too.

Plane tickets and eating out also was permissible. 

And books — as a writer and co-owner of a bookstore, Ann decided books were a given.

I like the idea that buying books are okay. However, I have a tall stack of unread novels on my shelf. I promise to read these before buying another one.

I do not need another sweater, jacket, slacks — you get the idea.

In my defense, I am a donator of clothing. I continuously edit my closet. My favorite recipients are my lovely, hardworking, and grateful housecleaners. 

Since I won’t be purchasing any clothing for the next year, I’ll be more prudent before handing over my goods. Still, there’s plenty to weed out that hasn’t touched my body in quite some time.

Handbags — that’s another obsession. It’ll do my wallet good to curb that for the next 12 months.

I’m excited about this upcoming experiment. 

Will you join me in this investigation into using what we already own rather than spending our hard-earning money on what is wanted but not needed?

Perhaps, we could earmark a portion of our savings and donate to our favorite charity. 

Shopping online has become a recreation when I’m between activities like waiting for the broccoli to steam for dinner. 

Any few moments can be filled with online “retail browsing.”

I now recognize this as a time-waster. My body would benefit from a few sit-ups instead.

I thank you, Ann Patchett, for this great idea and experiment in using what I own and appreciating all I have. My wallet thanks you, too.

Hubby, also, is ever so grateful.