The Hamster is Running

I have been reading a really interesting and really thought-provoking book that has forced me to look at my own behavior and draw some uncomfortable conclusions. It’s called The Overspent American, and it’s a really interesting look at consumerism and what drives us to spend. I think I’ve posted before about how I think Special K and I are fairly fortunate in that we have minimal “keeping up with the Joneses” pressure – I don’t think any of our friends would ever judge us or make us feel better or worse about ourselves based on what we do or don’t have. I don’t consider myself to be particularly materialistic, nor is K. We don’t think of life in terms of “if we only made X amount more money a year, we’d be happy” or “if we just could afford ___, everything would be great”. We’re working aggressively on paying off debt, which we’re finally in a position to do; I’m really grateful for all the things we’ve been given, and I pray we can use them wisely. So I think we do okay, and I don’t think we really want for much of anything. What a great feeling!

Well, all of this self-reflection has led me to the conclusion that it’s just a big, fat load of hooey and that I’m just as susceptible to this pressure to consume as anyone else. We have things that we like, things that we tend to purchase, and things that we don’t tend to care to spend our money on, but I know I see those things as more a reflection of what we like and our passions and values than a desire to let everyone know that we spend money on those things and to use them as status symbols. But now I’m starting to question where these passions came from and who’s look at the reflection –I start to tie my brain up in knots when I parse to that level. Interesting to do, and I am starting to really question how much of it is externally-driven, but very convoluted.

The one way in that I’ve been really conscious of this pressure to keep up lately is that I feel a distinct, although completely unspoken, pressure to dress better at work. Our firm holds to a definite formal businesswear dress code, more formal than my last job in the same industry. Nothing wrong with that, it’s their prerogative, and I do think that it’s better than people taking “business casual” too far, where their staff starts showing up in jeans and hoodies – I can support the value of looking professional, particularly in this field. But it’s definitely strange. I remember my first job out of college – I had to dress up more for my retail side job than for my actual office job. The places I’ve worked since have become slowly more formal, but this is just a different realm. And I feel pressure. Image counts in this field, much as I wish it didn’t.

I’ve also been thinking back to movies that I’ll watch or TV shows and I know that the experience of watching those things can often make me think “I want _____, just like she’s wearing” or something like that. It’s very unsettling to see how easily swayed I am. I hadn’t been to a shopping mall in a while, and I walked in one to buy something specific, and was immediately very conscious of this feeling of “I want that!” from looking in shop windows. It was really strange, because I think I hadn’t felt that in a while – it was very distinct. I didn’t buy anything other than the thing I specifically went there for, but it was so tempting.

Now, there are some things that I buy for specific reasons – I don’t buy personal care products, including cosmetics, that have been tested on animals, because I think it’s wrong. That leaves out a lot of mass-market brands (Cover Girl, Maybelline, L’Oreal, etc.), although there are a few (Almay, Revlon) that don’t. That means that I buy most of my hair and body products at Whole Foods, from specific other companies that I know don’t test. I don’t give a crap about what label is on them, I care about the company ethics. Which is why I’m pissed that Clorox, a company that does test on animals and makes BLEACH, despite their new “Green Works” line of cleaning products, bought Burt’s Bees, a heretofore pretty environmentally sound company. Now I don’t buy Burt’s Bees anymore, which sucks because I loved their products. But if their money goes to support a company that has practices I don’t support, I can’t support them.

I love my car because it runs and because it’s paid for, but when it’s time to get a new one (which I will also drive forever, as I’ve done with my now 11-year old car), I want to get a hybrid. They can be more expensive cars, but they also have lower emissions and greatly improved gas mileage (despite recent reports about Geo Metros from 10 years ago). That fits in with my beliefs and my passions about conservation and trying to walk a little more lightly on the earth. But is that, in itself, an unconscious status thing? I genuinely don’t think so, but I’m really wondering now.

I also try to buy well-made clothes because they tend to last longer, fit me better, and hold up well. (Which helps with that whole “professional appearance” thing.) But I also virtually always buy them on sale or at outlets or something, since I love getting a bargain. I don’t care about labels, per se, and I usually think that ostentatious labels are tacky, but I know I associate some particular labels and designers with higher quality, when it may just be a higher price tag with similar quality to what I’d find at Target. I just assume it’s better. This is a difficult process for me to sort through.

So, what do I do with this now? Does self-awareness always lead to action? Clearly not, I have many personal examples of my own failure to do anything about particular revelations I’ve had. The thing that really freaks me out, though, is that I really don’t want to be materialistic and I really don’t want to set a bad example for the kids that we hope to have one day. And I know that I can’t even begin to grasp the difficulties of being a parent, since I’m not one yet. But how do you help kids resist this pressure to consume, consume, consume, when we can all remember that time where the MOST IMPORTANT THING EVER was fitting in? Which usually meant an attempt at the right clothes and the right stuff. I mean, I can’t even help myself resist that pressure, apparently. And I already know that the best way to promote conservation and walking lightly on the earth is to just consume less crap in the first place.

It’s an excellent book and like I said, it’s caused me to do some serious self-reflection. The data are from the late 90s, but the message is still highly relevant, even if the cultural reference points are a bit dated. So, go check it out from the library and let me know what you think…

Say Wha-?

So, I met up with some friends for lunch the other day. They were friends from my old job who hadn’t seen my new uber-short haircut. (Oh yeah – my hair is way shorter now. I lurves it.) So one of them, who happens to be 23, came up to me and said “oh – you have Mom Hair!”

Um….what?

A look of horror crossed my face, as I felt like I should be wearing Mom Jeans, complete with pleats and high waist, white Reebok sneakers, and a pastel-colored polo shirt of some description, preferably with a sweater tied around my neck, in a coordinating pastel. I don’t think she realized that I took it as an insult, but when I said something to indicate that I didn’t think it was flattering, she said, in her attempt to clarify “no, no – it’s just…well, it’s just Mom Hair.”

Harrumph.

Now, let me take this opportunity to state that I have nothing against motherhood, nor do I think motherhood inherently makes one hopelessly devoid of style. Not the case at all. I know many, many stylish moms. Well done, them. I hope to be one of them one day. But Mom Hair isn’t a complimentary observation, no matter how you put it – and is somewhat deflating to hear when you’re thinking that your new haircut looks kind of sassy and sophisticated. Particularly when you’ve been feeling, as I have lately, somewhat frumpy and squashy-looking.

Well, I still do really like my haircut, although it does look better with a little bit more in the way of styling products than I’m accustomed to using. I’ve decided that I can no longer chalk my perpetual inactivity up to my “transition” and have been going to the gym at lunch as my schedule allows. So I feel like I’m moving back into my comfort zone. And really, now that it’s even shorter, my hair seems so much more mold-able, and I get the most SPECTACULARLY AWESOME bed-head. Blows the old stuff out of the water, and bears a somewhat disquieting (awesomely disquieting) resemblance to my mom’s fellow countryman, and therefore a half-brother of mine of sorts, Yahoo Serious.

Perhaps not Australia’s brightest luminary, but he sure does leave an impression, doesn’t he?