There are too many constant reminders of things that we should own and want to own. After all, we live in a capitalistic and materialistic world. The problem is when I see one of those things, I get obsessed with the idea that I need it.
Recently, it’s been an exercise dress. It’s exactly what it sounds like: a dress that you can exercise in with built in shorts. Outdoor Voices brought it to the market a few years ago and I joined a Facebook group where I got reintroduced to it. I thought I needed one too, so I could hike in it, even though I have perfectly good shorts and leggings. The one thing that made me hesitate about getting it is the $100 price point; the used version goes for $80 on Poshmark. The thought creeped in slowly, and the next thing you know I was Googling “exercise dress” to see what knock offs came up. Other people did the search for me and I was analyzing the Amazon, Aerie, Abercrombie copies. The Facebook group alerted me that there was a kind of ugly bright yellow exercise dress on sale for $30. I sat on my bed debating whether to buy it. I struggled because I was two months into my no buy goal for the year. I rationalized with myself that the dress isn’t only for exercising and could serve as a casual going out dress too. Of course, I would justify it to myself. I waited and waited and thought and thought. It was a good move because it eventually sold out before I could push buy. Inside, I was disappointed, but I still felt proud that I resisted. The Facebook group reminded me of something that I didn’t know I wanted.
I decided to stop by a giant sports store after doing yoga because I had never heard of it before. I saw Chacos and Tevas. I had heard about them a few years back and thought that they were the ugliest things, but now seeing them shine under the bright store lights, I convinced myself that I needed a pair. I don’t hike a lot, but I could justify spending $60 to avoid sweaty, gross feat in the Texas sun. I spent a few hours online looking at prices, researching if I wanted a toe loop or open sandal, and debating what size was best. All because I looked and walked into a store.
A coupon for $15 off at Dick’s came in the mail to celebrate their grand opening. I racked my mind about what I could buy. Casual tennis shoes? Shorts? There wasn’t anything immediate I needed, but it was a good coupon. I thought about making the trip out there to check it out and see what was on sale, even though I didn’t need anything.
They say if you put an item in your online cart and are still thinking about it 24 hours later then it means you should get it. All of those things I thought about even 24 hours later. It’s a rule that I don’t follow because I typically get fixated on things.
The marketing gets the best of me and creates an idea in my head of something that I think I need. When I think about it, that applies to a lot of the things I buy. If I didn’t look, then it wouldn’t even cross my mind. It feels practically impossible to avoid ads and shopping. It means avoiding your favorite influencer and social media is hard to look away from. The mall is easier to avoid, and I’ve stopped “stopping by TJ Maxx to browse just because it’s on the way home” since that normally leads to a purchase. There are too many constant reminders of things that we should own and want to own. Most brands want us to consume more and more.
I haven’t brought an exercise dress yet, but I still think about whether it’ll bring me joy. I decided that I didn’t need Chacos and that hiking in tennis shoes may be more practical, but my mind lingers on it sometimes. I didn’t make it out to Dick’s before the coupon expired. I wish I wouldn’t find it so easy to look because it creates a long wish list for things that I want only because the marketers do a good job. I’m trying to look away.
