Repercussions of Taking Inventory: Self-Induced Shopping Fasts
Elizabeth Pusack
Issue date: 4/13/06 Section: Features
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Here is my morsel of profundity: there is absolutely no reason to have a dresser full of things you don't love-especially if those things are cockroaches or mean people, but that's another article. Unfortunately, it is in the application of this apparently common knowledge that the difficulty lies. In their coy manipulative little way, most purchases are infinitely more loveable on the rack or at the cash register then they ever are in the dresser, or in my case, on the floor. Thus, I have begun a "Things I Already Own Outreach Program" in an attempt to give my existing possessions the attention they deserve in lieu of accumulating new ones. I'm hoping the result will be something like the gas station food challenge on "Top Chef." It's when resources are limited to spam and Krispy Kremes that real creativity emerges. In a shameless hyper-dramatization of the situation, I stoop to say that resourcefulness in the face of meager fashion supplies is what separates the men from the boys. Sure you can make a scrumptious ginger plantain risotto with all of Whole Foods at your disposal, but if you can concoct anything that the head chef of the Neiman Marcus Rotunda doesn't gag on with what is available at Stop and Shop, therein lies your true merit. Sure Kirsten Dunst is on every best-dressed list with all of Chloe and Marc Jacobs at her beck and call, but I'd like to see how she fared if limited to the shopping oasis that is Holyoke Mall.
My mother, after a 20-year stationery and book addiction-which has proven to be hereditary - has become a prime example of consumer moderation and the proud owner of a very reasonable definition of "necessity." As a middle school student, each time I "needed" a new pair of retrospectively ugly Steve Madden slip-ons or another Gap zip-up hoodie she would insist that I "take inventory" of what was already available to me and elaborate on my somewhat strange interpretation of the word "need." Unfortunately, she could only do so much and there are probably still a lot of ugly shoes and unnecessary hoodies lurking in dollar bins at Salvation Army with my name on the labels. As is often the case, only years later am I beginning to recognize the wisdom in my mother's advice-I haven't shopped since March 29 and so far so good. Baby steps.
2008 Woodie Awards
