Not Buying It

I read a review in a magazine recently about a new book that has come out titled Not Buying It by Judith Levine . I haven’t read the book and may not but I liked the premise. The author and her husband, concerned about their obsessions with consumerism, made the decision to not shop for a year. They would buy groceries, of course, and drug store items and necessities for the house or themselves (I assume that means things like hosiery and underwear as needed) but they would do no shopping beyond that.

The book, according to the review, is like a diary of the experience not unlike the diary a dieter or recovering alcoholic might keep. One entry mentioned was the author’s frustration over seeing a pair of lime green high heels she just HAD to have but could not buy. Maybe I’ll look for the book at the library.

Interestingly enough, I’ve been thinking about this a lot in terms of the economy of this country these days. Here in Gloucester gasoline is now over three dollars a gallon and getting higher. This effects not only the people who commute “down the line” every day — I used to commute 80 miles a day — but also the fishermen who are as beleaguered as those in any occupation can be. Consequently a lot of people are cutting back and, sadly, a lot haven’t got anymore cutting back available to them. Yesterday I was talking to a neighbor who is working three jobs to keep food on the table while her husband is fishing alone, further out than she is comfortable with. They have a teenager at home and one in college. They have no extras in their life these days.

There is something very out of balance going on. I know that is stating the obvious but it bears repeating often I think. We have lost perspective on how people were meant too live. We live packed together and yet how many of us know each other? We fill our lives with stuff and stuff and more stuff and turn a blind eye to the family next door who can barely feed themselves.

I have this sense that people were meant to live in community and to be a part of one another’s lives. There is a divisiveness that comes of rampant consumerism that has far-reaching effects for both families and neighborhoods. I’ve written about the endless cycle of acquisition before — more stuff—>more money—>longer work hours—>less time with family and friends—>more alienation—>more things to fill the void—>more stuff. And on and on.

One of the things I thought of when I was thinking about that writer’s longing for the lime green high heels was the anticipation of pleasure we project on to such things. “If only I had those lime green high heels I would feel beautiful and attractive and life would be good.” It occurred to me that it is that anticipation of pleasure that fuels so much of our drive to acquire. I’ve been there myself — a lot. If only I had fillintheblank all would be well. Recently this took the form of a black, sueded silk shirt with black abalone buttons. I had seen one in a movie and had a powerful big “want” on for it. I decided to make one and it turned out beautifully. I’ve worn it three times.

Tuesday night I wore the shirt out to dinner with a group of friends. I love these people and we had, as we always do, a wonderful time. We laughed and shared food and wine and conversation for three hours. It was a delightful evening and, as always seems to happen with us, nobody wanted to leave. And nobody noticed my shirt. You know what? That was fine.

I guess what I’m getting at is we need less stuff and more pleasure. For the price of those lime green high heels that writer could invite several friends over for pizza and wine and laughter and sharing. I don’t think we need more stuff — I think we need one another.

Thanks for reading.