Yesterday, as I was doing laundry, I became disgusted with myself over the sheer excess of my wardrobe. While I am a frugal shopper (I rarely pay over $20 for anything) I am a frequent shopper. I like to shop, and I like to spend, and I am realizing that where I have just considered it a part of my girly charm, I am a grown woman now, and it’s about time I started acting like it.
Shopping is almost a dysfunction for me. I say almost, because I can spend hours in a store without buying anything, but I do feel a near compulsive need to buy. Some people eat. I buy.
When I was growing up and my parents were having trouble, my mother would take me to the mall to avoid the house. And because I was the delight of her eyes, she loved dressing me up and accessorizing me, making sure I was fashionable looking (if on a dime, and with no labels.) Shopping was how we dealt with nerves, and how we dealt with depression, and how we dealt with being told not to spend more money. Shopping was a salve, and though I can’t speak for her, I certainly felt like I was entitled to spend as a means of balancing what I wasn’t getting emotionally. New shoes certainly got my father’s attention when nothing else would–got his attention so much, that he cancelled all the credit cards without telling my mother once. That got her attention. Then we went shopping with cash. It was a vicious cycle, that one. I still have the jewelry.
It’s a learned behavior. I learned that shopping feels good.
Somewhere along the line, my consumption became conspicuous. Who really needs five of the exact same tshirt? (You have no idea how panicked I feel asking that question. Because I do! I need those!) And somewhere along the line, my wardrobe started taking over the house.
I cannot even guess how much I have given away in the last two years. I would estimate that I have given away somewhere around four-hundred pounds of clothing. I would estimate that this was around 20% of my wardrobe. And doing laundry yesterday, I was disgusted.
I’m a cold turkey girl. When I think I have a problem, I take action. If I think I need to start a diet, I start it right then. Why wait? If I think I am drinking too much coffee, I quit. I wait until I feel good about it again, then resume. Headaches and all.
So yesterday, I quit shopping. I had one more purchase to make, for a home improvement project aimed at helping me contain my messes, but that was it. I am not shopping for anything new for 6 months.
No new clothes or shoes for me. No new accessories. No new home decor goodies. I will buy necessities, functional items that benefit the whole family, and hosiery, but otherwise? Man, I have enough to keep me looking fetch for two years.
I’m going to have to find a new hobby. Maybe I will take up counting the money I am saving, and swimming through it like Scrooge McDuck.
