SECONDHAND NATION

Lazy-E Boy: Josh Dorfman's Fun, Sexy & Cool Guide to Saving the Planet!

Again with his bullshit. 

I know, I've said it before, but ugh.   The hipster glasses, the use of the phrase "totally cool, fun and sexy" when it comes to environmental concerns, the interviewing of Martha Stewart - it all makes me want to upchuck.

I'm with the fearmongering Rovians here, something I'd never imagine I'd say, but I'm not sure how much more grave the situation must get before the "self-interested" realize that they are destroying their own human habitat when they refuse to learn how to live using appropriate resources in appropriate measure. 

Dorfman talks about semantics - how telling the unmoved masses how much more fun life will be if they go green is better than talking dire forecasts of shortage and destruction.

Sorry, but the aw-shucks, anti-science, booze cruisers have had their turn.  We need to use the language of science - carbon counting, food miles, bio-regions - in an effort to explain to people their role in the problem.  It's boring and yes, there's math involved.   And there's no vacant-eyed Swedish blond giving you a handjob while it's happening.  But this rebranding of sustainability/green living/environmental awareness/ is just more marketing to make new companies a buck before the ride stops. 

Grim Retail Christmas Sales, My Ass

Oh, poor dear old baby Jesus.  He might not sleep easy in his manger this holiday season - the retail forecast is so bad.   He might have to get a job as a night stocker in Best Buy - which apparently is wishful thinking if you read this.

Or that.

How about this? 

More of depressing dismal economic blah blah.

AHHH!  Stop it!

Look, I went to an outlet mall this weekend, in the hopes of finding some new shoes - combing my local thrifts has not yielded a thing lately - and also to do some Christmas shopping.  And what I found was hordes of people huffing around in their puffy winter coats, dragging their screaming, fed-up children into the Gap where they commenced to blitzing a display of folded jewel-tone sweaters like a starving mob in waiting for a food aid dump.   There were people circling in cars for good spots.  The local food shops were full of slobbering post-shopping lunchers.   Even the frickin Waterford Crystal/Wedgewood outlet was jammed to the hilt - come on!

People are still gonna shop for the damn holidays.  Feeling cheap and guilty around one's immediate families is worse than feeling broke. 

Every year, the local news outlets do the same "on the scene" report at a nearby mall, standing by an escalator as shoppers toting multiple bags gawk or hustle past, with the thrust of the story somehow becoming how sales are down, stores are hurting, poor little Bob Cratchit is going to be lucky if he scores a few packs of ramen, never mind chestnuts, black puddings and ham. 

If you watch the news or read the papers, you'd think that scads of harassed store managers would be falling en masse from the nearest skyscraper.   But somehow, whenever I go to shop retail during November-December, the stores are packed, the "doorbuster"  deals abound, the staff seem exhausted, there's no place to park and I'm as crabby about holiday consumerism as ever. 

Secondhand Pets, Part II

First, there was the heinous Basenji.

Then there was Gonzo.

Then from the people at the CARES shelter in Wyoming, MN, came our very own Pablo:

 

Rescuing a mutt is never a wrong move.

Thrift Stores: Consumerist Graveyards or Working People's Salvation?

Great article in by Judith Freeman from the L.A. Times that got me thinking.

Are thrift stores a sign of our noxious consumerist culture?  Am I doing the retail version of dumpster diving?  Are we thrift fanatics inadvertently making a statement about the absurdity of an economy built on novelty and competitive envy?

I can't decide. 

For one thing, shopping at a thrift stores for me is really about shopping, nothing more.  I like thrift stores because I can perform the act of shopping more frequently with less financial detriment.  I like looking at things.  I like imagining my life reinvented by some unexpected find I discover hidden in a pile of junk on a shelf.  I like buying clothes because I don't want to be out of style.  Dressed in vintage rags as they may be, my intentions are the same as any mall rat or lady who lunches at Neiman Marcus. 

Uncomfortable thoughts.  Makes me wonder if I should be proud to be citizen of the Secondhand Nation after all.