There is something overwhelmingly comforting to me about buying resale/reuse products.
Think about it. Everything you really need - it's already been made, it's already been partially consumed, and it's just sitting there, uniquely, waiting for you to get it at the thrift store or rummage sale.
Cargidan sweaters. Bread pans. Terra cotta pots. Tablecloths. Armchairs.
It's all there. You just have to decide where and when you'll get them.
I have never been an early adopter. Our family wasn't, either. We were the last house on the block to get a microwave, a video camera and a VCR. Prior to those inventions, we seemed to do just fine with saucepans on stovetops, Super 8 home movies and The Wonderful World of Disney. Whenever I see something newfangled and spangly like an iPhone or a GPS navigation system and I get all tense and Luddite, fearing what complications the instruction manual will involve.
So it suits me to shop resale, to hang onto my possessions for long whiles before dropping them for the next hot thing, to arrive late at the party, as it were. I haven't always been short on cash, but I am these days, and to spend money on all-new items seems drunken and wasteful.
But despite my low cash flow, I feel less stress about acquisition than most people. I know that when I get around to buying things, they will be cheap and relatively timeworn. I don't feel that my cost of living is increasing in this way; I'm just happy to have a television, thank you very much, never mind this plasma or LCD baloney. I don't consider trading in my car every year or upgrading to a bigger house or buying a new wardrobe from Macy's. Too much work. Too much money. Not as exciting as digging for gems amidst racks of cast-offs.
Though the search for that perfect sweater or chair is exciting and stimulating, consuming in this way actually makes me feel much more calm and content. My great ambitions include finding a enamel pots I can cook with, or a set of canning jars in great shape, or a living room sofa in crazy colors they don't make anymore. It's all a matter of going out and seeing what turns up on the sales floor or what rolls down some random stranger's driveway. In my model, I don't need to keep up on the latest trends or iterations. What I want is out there and getting it will be challenging and fun and satisfying than the conventional "saving up" period involved with a new purchase.
How many times have I scoured the mall - usually in pursuit of some fuddy-duddy dress-up costume for some frumpy, un-fun social event like someone's dumbassed wedding - and come up wanting? Trying, fruitlessly, to drop cash on sparkling brand new things, in every conceivable store? It seems impossible, in these days of endless choice, to come up for air after a day of shopping and make no progress. But it happens to me frequently when I chose to be a primary consumer. While in the secondary market, I come home with something that pleases me on nearly every shopping trip.
Yes, I want new things at times. New bras. Handmade soaps and lotions (Dear Santa: I want everything in the LUSH catalog. I've been good. Love, Carrie.) Some good sheets. A computer full of titzed-out software that can bake cookies and make logos, all while creating podcasts and stickers.
And I want experiences, too: a new hair cut, a full-body massage, a trip to Portand so I can spend an entire day at Powell's bookstore.
But mostly, I feel that resale has calmed the consumerist tendencies our society creates. Whatever I really need has already been made and if I'm patient enough or wait long enough, it'll show up at my local thrift hang-out, with a buck ninety-nine price tag on it.
What about Happiness? Adventure? Fun?
Yeah. You might get those things from an afternoon of thrift shopping, too. But where desire's concerned, there are no guarantees. You might also end up wanting to hang yourself after a demoralizing experience like this.
Mostly, the thrift store works best with small tangibles: springform cheesecake pans, gardening books, jigsaw puzzles. Those Big, Important, Capitalized Concepts, like Love, Peace, or Passion? Never mind what greedy deceptions our shopping-crazed culture tries to sell - those things are still up to you.
Image by Darnyi Zsoka via Wikipedia.