mrs-roboto's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Is There A Vaccine to Protect Me From Catching Hipsteritus? Today, in honor of Labor Day, I decided to go out and spend some hard earned cash. Pete and I headed downtown with great aspirations of purchasing new and cool crap. The thing you need to know about me and shopping is that I really suck at it. There are way too many emotions and hang-ups involved in this activity for me. I'm talking serious neurosis. I can never figure out what I need/want. I live in fear of buyers remorse and feel guilty when I purchase frivolous items. This stems largely from my early adult years when I had no extra spending cash and had to get by on the essentials. Back then I had strict rules. When at the supermarket, I could only purchase items that cost under a dollar (i.e. lots of Ramen Pride, rice, pasta, Jiffy mixes, and "light" tuna in a can). When I shopped elsewhere (basically any thrift store) I could spend up to five dollars on an entire outfit, no more than that. I had a $15.00 a month allotment for toiletries and makeup. I waited for holiday and birthday checks from relatives to purchase new bras and underwear and other stuff you might not want to skimp on or get second hand. Somehow I lived very happily within these constraints. I was regularly complimented on my attire and the food thing never seemed a problem (except for that one time I used my food budget to buy beer, wound up eating a single slice of white bread for each meal for a week, and passed out at work five days into the financially imposed fast - opps). As I've grown older and had less need to live hand to mouth, I've adjusted the rules a bit. I actually allow myself to purchase anything at all at the supermarket. I buy name brand toilet paper and paper towels rather than the scratchy generic crap. If I buy pasta, I buy the smaller portion of good fresh wheat noodles and not the two boxes for a dollar crap with no nutritional value that I could make last for six or seven meals. I might buy stinky cheeses and Carr's Water Crackers or fancy salad dressing or bottles of wine and sometimes I might buy them all in the same trip. I have convinced myself that eating good and healthy is important and no longer is it something I can deny myself. I have overcome my belief that organic is just another word for "boushie." Hell, I'm only going to get one body so I am going to treat it right, right? So okay, I'm good there. I can accept spending money on groceries but clothes and accessories is another thing entirely. Today we went to several department and big name stores. One store was stocked full of retro 80's clothes at ridiculously high prices. Your basic Izod shirt was retailing for $75.00!!! Now I was over at Value Village the other day and they had dozens of "gently worn" Izods for $2.99! Who's paying $75.00 for this stuff? I was even more upset by the Ben Sherman collection. I mean Ben Sherman's used to be underground hip and now they make them with this glittery embroidery and sell them to the masses. I guess that's what my real problem with shopping comes down to - it's an activity for the masses and in my mind I am still swimming against the tide. I often find myself crankily commenting on what the hipsters are wearing. I often exclaim "that's complete crap" or "I could find the exact same thing at the Salvation Army for a buck fifty!" Anything that is mass produced and marketed in "hot" boutiques for the young and trendy gives me the heebies and I get especially upset when something that really was once cool is co-opted by corporate America and stuck in a Gap or Abecrombie and Fitch. Clothes shopping almost always becomes a bitch session ending in me speeding down the highway to the thrift store where I buy copious amounts of 50's dresses for under $20.00, all the while commenting on how I really am one of a kind and how I can't be suckered into that cow-like mentality of other consumers. Yep, I am a gem, an original, but then I hit the record store. Ahh, the record store, a place where I can go and get lost without any of the politics and tantrums of department store shopping. I will only buy CD's at the independents as I abhor the corporate chains. Today I hit the store with some cash burning a hole in my pocket and a few "must-haves" in mind. Have I mentioned that our local indy record shop is staffed by young, ultra cool kids that make me want to quit my desk job and produce a fanzine full time while living in my parents basement? Have I mentioned that I sometimes forget how old I am and that many of my references are dated when voiced to a 20 year old riot grrl? Seriously, they all look at me like I'm out of my mind if I so much as mention that Devo is responsible for this whole new wave of Strokes-like bands. Thank god the Breeders have a new album I can use as common ground in conversation. But seriously, I was overcome by a sense of shame today as I stood there amongst the racks. You see, I really wanted to buy a CD that was by all standards "less-than-hip." It was something that had ties to my teens and brought back memories of a spunkier, cockier me. I picked it up several times but I just couldn't bear the thought of having Little Ms. Funky Diva at the counter ring it through. I could just see the exchange after I left the store. "Hey fellow funky coworker," she's say. "Did you just see that old crow who left the store? Did you see that she bought Album X? What's that been here since 1984? I had to get a hairdryer out just to blow the off layer of dust that was on it. How out of it is she?" So I purchased several recent indy releases and called it good. I guess I am not completely immune to herd-like behavior. By the way, I just went online and ordered Album X. It will arrive sans-judgement in a neatly sealed envelope for my personal consumption within the next two weeks. 4:47 p.m. - 2002-09-02 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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