Do you have a hobby? It's a simple question. And it was asked by a casual acquaintance, in the most innocent tone, as just a way for her to get to know me a little better. But it is this seemingly easy question that has spawned a serious bout of introspection and has left me grappling with both my own opinion of myself and the way others perceive me.
Do you have a hobby? I stammered through an answer that essentially consisted of, "well, I don't really have the time, I'm always working, I was never really good at anything, I don't know, what's your hobby." As she launched into explaining a new technique she was learning for watercolors, I kept thinking about what she was asking me and what it said about me that I didn't have one. When I relayed the conversation a few days later, at lunch with one of my best friends, he said, "Well, maybe your hobby is being a consumer? You love to shop. And you're good at it."
Slightly stunned by this comment, I tried to laugh it off. But as I asked more and more people about both exchanges, it became clear to me that one of my defining characteristics is my knack for shopping. One friend said to me, "It's just who you are. Cool bag. Cool shoes. Jewelry with a story. I know you're always going to know where to find something or what to wear."
I know I should take this as a compliment. And it is a big one. While I will never make DC's Ten Best Dressed List, I have carved out a niche among my friends for being the slightly daring one. Target dress, Prada shoes, grandmother's jewelry. Or LA consignment store t-shirt, outlet leather pants, sweater from Paris. And I do love to shop.
I love a day spent walking around New York City or San Francisco or DC with my best girl friends looking at (and buying) lovely things. I treasure memories of Christmas Eve shopping at the outdoor outlet malls in Florida with my family, everyone spread out to buy for our Secret Santas and then reconvening for an ice cream before heading back home. The hustle and bustle of a bazaar in Fez, Istanbul or the Parisian flea markets are reminders of a time when there wasn't a Starbucks on every corner or a GAP for every size or gender. Each outfit I build is a series of memories and moments.
But is that all I am? There is more to me than just the stuff in my closet. Yet, somehow, I'm not quite sure that people, even my closet friends, can sometimes see past it. For the record, the person I am isn't a bad person. I have a successful career, I own my own home, I have a life filled with friends and family. I volunteer, contribute money to charity and serve on the board of one of the best non-profits in the country. There is nothing wrong with my life but there is something missing. And I'm even confused about how much being a talented consumer can make up for other things I don't have in my life, things that can't be bought.
Over the last couple of weeks, I have thought about this, a lot, since I returned from Paris. Combined with the other conversations going on in my head about life, love, career, etc., this idea that somehow shopping has become a crutch has really taken hold. But what does all this mean?
Where am I going with all of this? At 40 years old, it's pretty hard to change who I am.
So I've decided, given the tradition of New Year's resolutions, to make a pretty big one. I'm going to curb my shopping habit and take the time, energy and money that I dedicate to it each year and refocus it all on something else. Instead of shopping, I'm going to spend the year looking at ways to improve my life. To rebuild friendships. To explore the relationship that we all have with shopping and how it can be used to temporary fill life's holes.
If there was any doubt in my mind about this idea, I pushed it aside after floating it with my family and some close friends. Without exception, my ability to do this was met with such skepticism that it was (unintentionally) hurtful. My aunt had the most reasoned opinion. While she too was skeptical that it would work, she at least appreciated the idea that maybe the shopping persona was getting in the way of people seeing the "real" me. But pretty much everyone else laughed and the conservations almost immediately turned to the rules, the exceptions, and side bets on how long this whole thing (this "folly" as one person said) will last.
Again, it's a little hurtful that people don't think I can do this but in answering all those questions I have figured out how this will work.
- What's Out. New "stuff". This is a probably defined category but I can tell you that it includes clothes, shoes, accessories, jewelry, linens, appliances, electronics, furniture, car accessories, etc. I have 52 pairs of shoes, more handbags than I care to admit, a dress for nearly everyday of the month, a television, a stereo, two cheese graters, an ice cream maker, lamps, sofa, chairs, and so much more. I may "want" more stuff -especially on days when I'm feeling down or caught up in the "keeping-up-shopping" with friends or even when I'm just board- but I definitely don't "need" anything else.
- What's In. I know myself well enough to know that I can't give up books or cds or iTunes. Words and music are an even bigger part of who I am than my 5-year old Marc Jacobs Stella bag. And while they may be "stuff" books and cds are in. So is moisturizer, toothpaste, conditioner, cosmetics, an if-needed new pair of tights or other things to keep me clean and well groomed. Food is also in, including restaurants and coffee shops. This isn't an experiment in ecoliving or being the no impact (wo)man. It is more a meditation on exactly what we need to help make us feel whole. I'm sure these "exemptions" will ruffle some feathers but ...
- Safety valve. I'm not an idiot; I may, over the course of 365 days need an escape. I may find myself in a foreign country and want something to remind me of the trip. I may end up an estate sale or fantastic flea market or even on a business trip where I need a sweater because the temperature unexpectedly went from 85 to 45. I'm allowed, but don't have to buy, twelve "things" over the next year- but only 12 - from the What's Out category.
- The donation. When I took a look at my end-of-year-statement from AMEX for 2007, 2008 and 2009, I realized just how much my "hobby" has cost me over the years and it was shocking. I felt like Carrie Bradshaw in that episode of Sex and City where she tries to get a mortgage and realizes her shoe collection totals what she needs for a down payment on the condo. So I'm going to take the money I "save" (the average of what I have spent over the last three years) and sock half away in my savings account and give the other half to charity (specifically RAINN). Both donations will be considerable, trust me.
- The blog. To keep myself honest, and because I was looking for something to do with this space post-Paris, I'm going to keep blogging here at Table 81 about the search for happiness, fulfillment and a "new" life. Moving forward my posts will focus on this experiment and what it means to me (and maybe others).
So there it is. It's pretty simple, in theory. I'm sure it will be harder than I think. I am so conditioned to just buying what I want, when I want it, that I'm sure there will be moments where I have to put something down and walk away from the register. I'm sure there will be funny moments and, probably, some sad stories. But I'm sure it will be worth it, on so many levels.
