Thoughts on Consumption

Lessons from a Weekend Trip to the Mall

A few weekends ago my husband and son were out-of-town. When they’re gone my daughter and I typically have a “girls weekend.” Usually we cook one of her favorite meals or order takeout and watch a movie together. But last weekend was different. She asked to go to the mall.

A seemingly simple request brought up a lot for me. I’m careful that our quality time isn’t shaped by shopping, consuming, and spending money (a narrative all too often put on women). I come by this sensitivity honestly: over-shopping is one of the attachments I’ve stared down and shed from my life. In the not-too-distant past I had lost my own identity to motherhood and an unfulfilling job. Lacking a true north star, I prayed at an altar of stuff and things, thinking I could buy my way to happiness and enough-ness, finally realizing that there was no amount of statement shoes, premium denim or structured blazers that would fill the void I was experiencing. True healing never comes from the outside, it’s always an inside job.

It wasn’t until I consistently dragged my (well-dressed) butt onto my meditation cushion, yoga mat, or early morning journaling sessions that I found my way out of a pattern of over-spending and shame into a path back to myself. I’ve done the work, I’ve learned the lessons, and I know what triggers this numbing behavior for me. I also know these behaviors are slippery – as in it can be easy to “slip” back into. This happened not too long ago when I noticed I had purchased quite a few things under the guise and belief that I needed – ‘new clothes for a new season’. I didn’t need any of it. I didn’t even really want it. Instead, I looked inward to identify the uncomfortable emotions I was trying to fix.

Needless to say, her innocent ask for a trip to the mall felt loaded. But when the boys are gone, we do special things. So we headed to the mall on a carefully planned adventure: arrive early before the weekend crowds and be gone within an hour.

It turns out that we had a great time. My daughter brought her own money, and she began to think about how much she had, the cost of items, and the value it would bring to her. After she realized that $4 for a quarter pound of candy at the fancy candy would only amount to a handful she decided to move on. Next up was Claire’s…heaven for my little girl with lots of sparkly and shiny things (nearly all for $9.95!). The fidget toys and accessories she tossed into her shopping basket took on new meaning when she realized she was parting with her own money. After much deliberation she decided on a small stuffed animal, and we had a great life lesson about sales tax upon her realization that a $10 bill wouldn’t cover the entire cost of her new toy.

I patted myself on the back for imparting these valuable life lessons and we made one last stop to a store I wanted to pop into – and what would be the greatest moment of our shopping trip. We headed into a women’s athleisure store (basically my version of Claire’s.) As something caught my eye, I made a beeline for the rack and began looking for my size. My daughter walked over and causally said, “mom…don’t you already have that?”

I replied to her that I had something similar, but not in this particular color.  She looked at me with a furrowed brow. Then she looked around again and started pointing. “And you have that. And a sweatshirt that looks like that. And a shirt just like that!”

I paused as her words sunk in and the realization struck me. I looked at her and said, “You’re right. Thank you for reminding me. I don’t need anything in here. Let’s go.”

Suddenly a woman who had been flipping through racks, turned around, made eye contact with me and said, “Oh my gosh me too. I don’t even know what I’m doing here.”  With that, she walked out of the store. And so did we. We took back our power in that moment – power from a cultural narrative that we need more, that we aren’t enough, and that we should be spending our free time shopping. The true beauty of the day was that short and brief exchange with a stranger. In that moment I knew I wasn’t alone. And so did she.

If you find this topic interesting or if you shop out of boredom or as a numbing behavior, check out the book Consumed by Aja Barber. From climate change to colonialism, Barber offers great insight into the fast fashion industry, who’s profiting, who’s not, and how it churns us to buy more and more.