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Repercussions of Taking Inventory: Self-Induced Shopping Fasts

Elizabeth Pusack

Issue date: 4/13/06 Section: Features
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Elizabeth Pusack's closet, home of many more than just the essential garments.
Media Credit: Elizabeth Pusack
Elizabeth Pusack's closet, home of many more than just the essential garments.

I suppose Lent ought to have been the season of taking stock and reflection. I tried and failed miserably. Apparently dairy is not an easy thing to give up, even when it makes you sick. If I had been utterly honest with myself about what would really challenge me and inspire said reflection, dairy would have been second at best and, perhaps not surprisingly, shopping would have been first. When I really took stock in a literal sense, it was startling how far beyond my wardrobe needs I really live. According to my calculations, I could technically survive comfortably with one pair of pants, seven shirts, maybe one skirt, one nice dress and a little time to do laundry, and I could certainly survive uncomfortably with much, much less. Needless to say, my closet is the home to more than 10 garments, and my appreciation for, and utilization of, each garment is spread rather thin.

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.
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