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.

Goodwill Hunting: How do ya like dem jars?

After a month of buying nothing new, I'm still a consumer. And limiting myself to second hand shopping might have made me an even more excited consumer because now when I find something really good at a second hand store I feel like I've made a major accomplishment. It's the thrill of the search! Being the child of a museum curator and archivist has given me the interest in pawing through the remnants of other peoples lives to piece together a glimpse of their personalities. I suppose my brief stint in archaeology was fitting as well. Digging through stacks of used stuff is almost as fun as slowly scraping away layers of soil to expose the day-to-day realities of former civilizations. Or perhaps more fun, for some.

Last week SteadyJ and I headed to Goodwill to procure some sweet threads for an 80s themed Birthday Party. In the first 10 minutes he found some killer acid wash jeans and I found perhaps the most hideous/awesome lavender polyester pant suit with a sort of disco meets the Golden Girls vibe. They proved successful garb for the party, in fact, I would go on to say that we got more double takes than any other couple in the place. Sidenote: If you ever have the chance to attend the 80s Video Dance Attack at the Crystal Ballroom in Portland, OR, you should do it.

Our Goodwill experience wasn't just successful because of the costume finds - of course we had to browse for a few minutes! I was walking through the kitchen items when I noticed a low shelf full of canning jars. Now, Goodwill probably has these all the time, but I hardly have given them much notice in the past. But this time I spotted some of the really old Ball and Atlas wire bail canning jars with the glass lids. Major score! I love these old jars! Here is A Brief History of the Home Canning Jar found on the pickyourown.org website:

Clamped Glass-Lid Jars (Lightning Jars)

In 1882, Henry William Putnam of Bennington, Vermont, invented a fruit jar that used a glass lid and a metal clamp to hold the lid in place. These "Lightning jars" became popular because no metal (which could rust, breaking the seal or contaminating the food) contacted the food and the metal clamps made the lids themselves easier to seal and remove (hence the "Lightning" name) . There were many similar glass lid and wire-clamp jars produced for home canning all the way into the 1960s. Many can still be seen in garage sales, flea markets and on specialty food jars today.

Well hot damn. The glass jars I got could range in age from 50 to 100 years old given that they have patent dates of 1908 on them. I'm really not sure how old they are. There was a bit of rust on the bailing wires, but I took them off and hit them with some steel wool and now they are looking sharp! For three jars I paid about $7, which isn't bad for jars that will probably last my entire life!

This past November I was visiting some family friends in Vancouver, BC and I had a great conversation with my mom's best buddy Linda about disposable life styles. Linda and her husband have been working to consume less over the past few years, downsizing their life from a house to an apartment and selling one car along the way. Their son, Evan, has been working to start his own business helping people make their urban homes sustainable. The interesting thing that came out of our conversation is that basically, we all should be living more like our great-grandparents did in order to have sustainable lifestyles. Growing a lot of our own food and preserving it, collecting our rain water, entertaining ourselves at home, listening to the radio as opposed to spending a lot of time online (ironic for a blogger to say, I know), and truly weighing the importance of use of time and money in relation to wants versus needs. It would be ignorant for me to sit here and glorify the hard lives that made most of my great grandparents flee their homelands and seek the opportunities in the United States. The point I'm trying to make is that I think past generations gave a lot more thought to their consumption, mainly because they had to in order to survive. And my guess is that glass canning jars just like my Goodwill finds were seen as valuable tools to their sustainable survival.

Buy Buy!

Consumption is as consumption does. It's stupid. But can it be avoided? Sort of. I am taking my first stab at altering my consumeristic lifestyle by giving up my penchant for shiny new things that have never been touched by another hand for one year. The initial spark of this project came to mind a few months ago when I abandoned use of plastic food storage containers and decided to instead use the plethora of glass jars accumulating in my cupboard. Next came a decision to never ever purchase gift wrap again for the rest of my life (gift wrap = waste and $). I have decided to take things a lot further and not purchase any new stuff for an entire year. Well, ok, I will purchase new food. And new hygiene items - who wants used TP? But everything else will either be borrowed, bought second hand or bartered for. Instead of heading to the mall to buy new clothes or shoes, I'll be scouring Craigs List, second hand shops, attempting to trade my skills for used items, or asking my vast network to borrow the things I need. More than anything, I anticipate this project influencing how I see what I "need" versus what I "want".