Confessions of an Online Binge Shopper: It All Started with a Suede Coat
At some point during New York Fashion Week, for reasons I still don’t totally understand, I decided I desperately needed a suede coat. After hours of discouraging research online, my quest led me to Etsy where I finally found and purchased a burnt orange one with a tie belt for $120. Even though I didn’t have high hopes (I’ve always been skeptical of buying vintage items without trying them on first), I decided to go for it. When the package arrived, I tore through the cardboard and paper, and held my breath. But it was perfect: soft, retro, and it fit me like a glove. I paraded around my apartment elated—not only did I love it, I’d gotten it for a fraction of the cost. Plus, it went with everything in my closet—from vintage Levi’s to casual dresses. It was like winning the lottery. Except with clothes.
Unfortunately, that’s not where this story ends. That’s just the beginning. Soon, multiple packages started arriving each week, the result of furtive hours spent poring over new listings on Etsy.
Here’s a list of things I recently bought on the site:
Vintage army surplus pants (too big)
Vintage no-name safari shirt
Vintage Ralph Lauren safari dress (guess there was a theme)
A fake Hermès scarf (advertised as real)
A gold seventies halter (turned out to be see-through)
A black camisole (so icky I immediately had to donate it)
Lace-up heels
KissyDress green bridesmaid dresses
And then came the final straw: a three-piece patchwork suede suit, consisting of a coat, flared pants, and a miniskirt. I actually burst out laughing when I tried it on. Why on earth had I thought it was a good idea to purchase a second suede coat—let alone one that came with matching pants and a skirt? I looked at the rest of my bounty crammed into the walk-in-closet I share with my husband. Sure, the safari dress was quite chic, and, thanks to pasties purchased from Ricky’s I did manage to wear the gold halter with tuxedo pants on a night out, and I guess I could wrap the fake Hermès scarf around one of my purse straps . . . But honestly, what was I really going to do with all this stuff? What had possessed me, late at night, looking into my laptop screen? Why did I think I needed it?
Turns out, the answer is more nebulous than I expected. According to consumer psychologist Kit Yarrow, author of the just-published Decoding the New Consumer Mind, a multitude of factors—some known and unknown—can motivate a purchase. The most problematic for consumers, she says, is the “dopamine rush that comes with finding a bargain or something special as a way to add a little bit of oomph to their life . . . people become almost, I think, addicted to the bargain hunt.” Yep. And, like any good addiction, half the pleasure is derived from the anticipation. I think about all the items I have currently saved in “shopping carts” all over the web; the longer I keep them there, savoring each one’s exciting possibilities, the more dopamine I’m squeezing out of them when I finally hit purchase.
A friend of mine, a fellow online binger who shall go unnamed, can relate: “It can totally feel like an addiction,” she says. “And I think because the money seems sort of intangible online, it’s even easier to click away a significant amount.” My friend and I land on another factor that goes into our bingeing: Shopping makes us feel productive, like we’ve accomplished something. After an unsatisfactory day, when it seems like everything’s been taken out of you, it feels good to add something back in—even if that something comes in the form of flared suede patchwork pants . . . and skirt.
For me, the Etsy bingeing began a few months after I left my job as a fashion features editor at a magazine. Going freelance was incredibly liberating in a lot of ways—but it also meant that I went from spending my days working closely with editors and writers to spending them, for the most part, alone. Which brings me to another one of Dr. Yarrow’s theories.
“The motivation for almost everything we buy has something to do with connecting with other human beings,” Dr. Yarrow has said. And in terms of Etsy, sure: Shopping is an easy way to interact—however indirectly—with another human being, occasionally one who made by hand the thing that you’re purchasing. Even Internet connectivity helps you to feel linked to a greater system. It’s also a tool many people use to help calm anxiety about an upcoming event or life stage.
“Shopping is used as a way to mentally prepare [for a life-transition or event],” says Dr. Yarrow. “As people go through the process of selecting products, they are mentally visualizing their new future. In a way, it’s like runners and athletes who use visualization to enhance their performance.”
If that’s true, we can infer that I’ll soon be going on a seventies-disco themed safari with a layover in Paris. Back here in reality, though, my list of online purchases makes significantly less sense. Even less so when considered together—they’re more like bizarre puzzle pieces that don’t fit. But maybe that’s the point: As a freelancer, I now wear a different hat every day, so it makes sense I’d have some conflicting ideas about the future. However, there is one bit of common ground: None of the items are office-appropriate. Now that I work from home, I get to indulge in more fashion whimsies; purchasing nonpractical items just because they strike my fancy is a way for me to revel in that newfound freedom.
So maybe the Etsy binge was a necessary step I had to take, to help me get used to my new lifestyle. Plus, if that disco-themed safari trip ever does materialize (any offers?), I’ll know just what to pack.
https://www.kissydress.co.uk/green-prom-dresses-online
You should also see:
Tags:
—————