My Skin is Clear, My Crops Are Thriving: Weapons Against Overshopping

Now that I'm actually, finally, after two years (as of last week; I started my original shopping ban on May 14th 2019) getting a handle on my shopping habit, it seems only fair to share those things that help. What works for me personally is that I have built these ideas into my life as habits, and over time they have worn away the sharp poky edges of my desperate wants and desires, so I don't feel that nagging urge to buy, buy, buy in the back of my brain, like an itchy label. 

This is similar to my tips and tricks post of yesteryear, but I feel like I wrote that when I was a level one nonshopper, white-knuckling through each day and still slipping up every other week. Now I have levelled up, and although I still have a LONG way to go before I achieve the monk-like aura of nonconsumerism that I dream of, I no longer feel like I'm an irritating email away from slipping off the spending cliff all the time. Simply put, I've learned better ways of dealing with at least some of the underlying unmet needs - a brief selection: insecurity and lack of self-esteem, need for approval, self-expression, need to be recognised as an amazing limited edition snowflake with excellent taste in music, desire for a sense of belonging - which were fuelling my overshopping habit.

Some of those upgraded coping mechanisms are as follows:

1. Nature

My biggest weapon against overshopping is spending time outdoors. As the Spud has gotten older, we've increased the amount of time we spend outside from a begrudging half hour walk with the pram to as much as six hours walking around and playing at the park, and a minimum of an hour, rain or shine. In lockdown we took a daily walk around our local nature reserve and spent time tending our herbs and vegetables in the garden.

I don't always feel like dragging myself outside, but the Spud is insistent, and it makes me feel better about plonking him in front of Tractor Ted while I take a breather from time to time. And once I get out there, even if it's grey, mizzling and blowing a gale, after half an hour or so I generally morph into Annoying Nature Lady, getting excited about fluffy moss and interesting lichen. I even asked for a birdwatching guidebook for my last birthday (who am I?). 

One thing I know is that the more time I spend outdoors - preferably in nature, but a trek to the post office will do in a pinch - the calmer and more content I feel. I usually leave my phone at home too, which frustrates some of my relatives to no end but does me the world of good. It was initially a wrench to go out gadgetless, but in the year or so I've been going phoneless nothing dire has happened and everyone has largely gotten used to the fact I'll get back to them when I'm ready. 

For best results, as my two-year-old has taught me, you need to actually interact with the nature - squelch in the mud, paddle in the river, listen to the birdsong. Mooching about with your eyes on Facebook and your headphones in won't actually do you any good. Also, don't forget to bring snacks. I have learned to always take along a peanut butter sandwich as we're always out longer than I expect!

This has evolved into a newfound love of the outdoors, and is probably the most I've spent time outside since I was a child myself. I've got tan lines on my feet, my complexion is about as good as it's ever been (except for those three weeks after giving birth when I had the clear, plump, glowing skin of a baby angel), and I feel better in myself, physically and mentally. We've also developed an interest in foraging, and can be found in the hedgerows harvesting apples, blackberries, elderflower and sweet chestnuts throughout the summer and autumn. 

I realise not everyone has the ability to access nature as we are lucky enough to do; fresh air, natural light, a view of the sunset and a bit of birdsong go a long way. I think the reason this helps is that it reminds me I'm one tiny part of a huge and intricate web - it really puts my worries about clothes and make-up and whatever into perspective. It also reminds me how incredible everything is. You just don't get that sense of awe and wonder in TK Maxx. 

2. Creative living

Inspired by books such as Timeless Simplicity, Radical Homemakers and Big Magic, I eventually realised that creativity isn't just about being An Artist, Capital-A, or A Writer, Capital-W, but is a way of living. It's a way of living that in particular is directly antithetical to constant, demanding consumption, as the rigours and stimulation of overshopping and excessive screen time seem to wither imagination - and happily, vice versa.

Living a creative life will mean something different to every person, but it requires time, care and attention, like a garden (it could be gardening). It could be home cooking, growing veg, painting, acting, figure skating, quilting, dance, playing the trombone, zine making, fashion design, keeping a beautiful home, soapmaking... All the unnecessary but fulfilling ways that humans have made ordinary life into something beautiful and satisfying. 

I know a person who does creative things all the time but describes herself as "not creative". Yet this lady creates beautiful outfits and colourful make-up looks every day, writes poems, and once presented me with a stunning hand-painted glass bowl. She also raised children, which takes A LOT of creativity. We have developed some strange ideas about what creativity actually is, and there are probably a lot of people shutting themselves off from various forms of self-expression because someone told them they weren't artistic, or talented, or 'being realistic', or were wasting time. 

I recently read a blog post about everyday creativity which really struck a chord for me and also expresses similar thoughts to the books I've mentioned above. Druid and author Nimue Brown says, "I’ve been glad to see memes doing the rounds pointing out that singing, dancing, making art and so forth used to just be things people did. In having turned that into professions, and in having industrialised our lives, we’ve lost a lot of that. Obviously I’m in favour of there being space for creative professionals, but I feel very strongly that creativity should be for everyone, all the time.

"We’ve traded our freedom to create for convenience."

It doesn't have to be complicated and you don't have to try to make a living from it. Over the last couple of years I have tried my hand at knitting, crochet, cooking, baking, singing (purely for pleasure, as I am tuneless), jive dancing, playing guitar and pennywhistle, and making my own house cleaning and beauty products. I also want to pick my fiction writing and drawing back up - two things I let drop when I realised I wasn't going to make my fortune from them - start a veg patch and take a pottery class. I want to fill my life with the richness of doing, even if I'm not very good at everything I turn my hand to, rather than spending my days passively consuming what other people have made.

3. Gratitude

I hate admitting to being the sort of person who writes gratitude lists, but the books I was reading - too many to ignore - kept recommending the practice and eventually I had to give it a go. It stands to reason that appreciating all that we have, even the smallest of things and the most ephemeral of moments, will stop us fixating on what we don't have. However I found writing a structured list really annoying, so when I write my journal each evening I just take care to note down a couple of things that were good about my day, from an interesting sky to a nice cup of tea, my toddler's reaction to a fart or a hilarious Amazon review (current fave: "this book reads like a tumble in the moss at low gravity").

4. Savouring

I did eventually realise that my frantic brand of decluttering had cleared my physical space but done nothing for my state of mind. It was time to make a serious effort to slow down and stop rushing from one task to another. I had been spurred on by the high I get from clearing stuff out, to the extent that I was often up at night, racking my brains to see what I might be able to get rid of next (I suspect that this is not terribly healthy). 

So once I'd purged the low-hanging fruit (because there really is no point keeping CDs you don't want to listen to), I decided to put the brakes on and enjoy what I had left, rather than keep forcing myself to find reasons to get rid of more. This turned out to be a brilliant idea. From putting one of my remaining CDs on in the morning to digging out my old vinyl and asking my dad to repair my record player, to making the effort to actually use one of the lipsticks I'd decided to keep, the acts themselves were fun and uplifting, and engaging with my possessions instead of just having them hanging around waiting to eventually be decluttered increased their value to me. It also made me slow right down and savour what I was doing. Appreciating - and using - what you have is key to not continually wanting more. 

5. Authenticity

My word for this year! A simple way to feel better in your own skin is to be true to yourself. I didn't find it as easy as it sounds, but through baby steps - learning to say 'no', speaking my mind rather than hiding my feelings, letting go of clothes I didn't really feel comfortable wearing - I found that striving to be more authentic did wonders for my self-esteem.

6. Randomness

I did, however, have to learn to strike a balance between authenticity and openness. For example, I was recently given a pair of wellies as a gift from a much-loved family member. However, they were leopard print, which I dislike. Whilst a focus on curating my perfect wardrobe, which I had considered part of 'being authentic', led me to worry about the gift and think about asking for an exchange, I eventually realised that even though these wellies weren't my 'dream wellies', they were good quality, they fit beautifully, and were chosen by someone who cares about me a lot. And who obviously thinks I'm more glamorous than I actually am, which is quite complimentary. I started to feel quite fond of the wellies, looking at them in this light, and in the end I was happy to wear them and pleased that I hadn't returned them. In this case, I was perhaps striving for an over-controlled idea of perfection, instead of authenticity, and being open to a little randomness, a little imperfection, made me happier and more appreciative.

Likewise, as I have mentioned previously, a free library book from a random selection can be more of a delight than you might find on Amazon and its careful algorithm, simply because it's a bit different and new and unexpected. Choosing not to over-curate and remembering to leave space open for surprises has brought me great happiness, and allowed me to 'make do' without feeling in the least bit deprived.