Friday, February 12, 2010

Not Buying It: My Year Without Shopping

When I started my project, my friend Emily asked if I'd read Not Buying It: My Year Without Shopping by Judith Levine. I hadn't, and promptly requested it from the library. I was pretty excited when it arrived a week later and I could jump into another person's account of changing their buying habits for a year to help me stay motivated through the first month of my challenge!

Judith Levine and her partner Paul spent 2004 attempting to buy nothing except for food - and the food they purchased had to be as unprocessed as possible. They were both self employed, she as a writer and he as some sort of consultant, and in their mid 50s when undertaking their challenge. While I found a lot of our motivations for undertaking our projects to be similar (wanting to consume less, re-evaluating the need for "new" items, feeling overwhelmed by a culture that rewards buying) the way that she and her partner view their consumption and negotiated 'necessities" is quite different than my thought process.

The author owns a rent controlled apartment in New York City, where she and her partner spend Spring and Fall. Her partner, Paul, owns a small farm house on numerous acres in Hardwick, Vermont where they spend Summer and Winter. Together they own 3 cars. A Honda Civic for the city, a Subaru to get around Vermont in the winter and an old Chevy pickup to use for hauling and yard work in Vermont. To me, the idea of having two homes and three cars for two people seems kind of extravagant when in the next breath the author talks about simplifying life. In the first chapter, Levine talks about the amount of sheer stuff she and her partner have accumulated - so much stuff that they decide that the Vermont house should be remodeled to accommodate their things! She blatantly states that her partner is a pack rat and refuses to get rid of anything. Way to pass the buck, Judith. It was bizarre to imagine a couple "not buying it" while at the same time knowing that they were buying the raw goods to build a house and services of a contractor to do the work. Later in the book there is mention of their three hour Vermont drive to salvage an old claw foot tub from a collapsed barn, but no where else is there any talk about using eco-materials or recycled building supplies, which seems really odd.

While the contradictory elements of this book, like the house remodel, made me exclaim, "WHAAAAAAAAAATTTTTTTT?????" a few times, it definitely brings up some good points. In NYC, Judith and Paul are able to re-acclimate themselves with all the free entertainment that is available on a daily basis. They go to open mic nights, free concerts in parks and at churches, and spend more time out for walks just for the sake or walking, instead of walking on their way to buy items. While the level of performances they hear is lower than the professional performances they are used to, the speak of the fact that it is reinvigorating to be around people who show such spirit in their amateur work. In Vermont, Judith thinks she has lost her SmartWool socks and has a panic attack, and then goes on to explain how people get sucked into brand loyalty! An affinity for certain brands even has a name, "a lovemark" which is loyalty beyond reason. Another result of the author's project is the fact that she became much more politically informed and involved. Given that she cannot buy books, she starts frequenting libraries all over the boroughs of New York and is shocked by their run down states and minuscule budgets. As it is an election year, Judith uses the time that she would have previously spent shopping, browsing or price comparing online and volunteers for her chosen candidates. As this was a huge election year (Bush vs. Kerry), much of the latter third of the book surrounds the idea of moving from being an American consumer to an involved American citizen.

Perhaps the best take away from this book is the description of what happens when you are in a position of not buying things. When you tell your friends, or even strangers, their response is generally to feel bad and then want to buy something for you because they assume your life is really, really hard! Once the author's friends hear about her project, they call her to offer tickets to performances or sporting events that they cannot use. They meet for walks, but then the friends often offer to treat her to a glass or wine, or a movie. It really all comes down to power - people who consume and have the money to buy things, have power in our society. It's the main way we make our decisions - "Put your money where your mouth is". In relationships, the author's friends feel very awkward that they have the power to buy, while Judith does not, and they try to level things buy purchasing treats for her!

Of course, their is another side to this power struggle. It's the discomfort of telling people that you need their help. Will they think you're incompetent since you don't understand how to maneuver our "no free rides" society? The author speaks about heading out to ski one day and realizing that she has forgotten her ski wax and is carrying no cash! She is completely worried about stopping in the ski shop to ask if she could borrow some and has practiced her speech about not buying things for a year, and how she usually carries her own wax, etc. Surprise, surprise, when the ski shop guy not only says that she can use wax, but actually gives her the wax to keep with a genuine smile. While we can all hem and haw about the fact that people should be competent enough to take care of themselves, when it comes down to it, most individuals will offer help to other individuals.

Over the last 6 weeks of my own quest to buy nothing new, I've found people to not just be supportive, but to actively want to help in my pursuit. After reading about my fascination with lightning jars, my colleague Mary sent me an email saying that she had a few lightning jars she was going to take to Goodwill, and would I want them? Yes please! Another friend, seeing a Facebook note I put out asking if anyone knew where I could find used cycling shoes, sent me an email saying she had a slightly used pair I could have for ten bucks. Yee ha! It can be hard to put yourself in a place where you have to ask people if they can help respond to your needs. You have to trust that your acquaintances, colleagues, friends and family know you well enough to realize that you aren't a mooch (This is not going to work if you actually are a mooch - reciprocation is the key.) There is also the fact that it is so much faster just to go out and buy what you need, all shiny and new. Not buying new means that I have to either plan very far in advance, or not have a strict time line for shopping. I am a person who carries high expectations for myself, and I am quite a choosy shopper. Buying used means that I have to regularly adjust my expectations for how things I need will look. Are the used cycling shoes I acquired the most beautiful shoes I've ever seen? No. I probably wouldn't have chosen the style in a million years. But they serve their purpose beautifully, and when I'm on my bicycle enjoying a February sun break, the furthest thing from my mind is what my shoes look like. I'm just happy to be outside and get to utilize my bike to its fullest.

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