Be More Glastonbury

When I told Dai that I'd decided not to run a shopping ban this year, he said, "Oh, good," which told me - in a typically laconic Dai way - that people around me probably thought it was time for me to take a break as well. I'd paused tracking my spends, too, but in the end I decided to try a slightly different approach. Tracking my bills, groceries, and spends out of my control - repairing broken windows, recovering my dad's untaxed car - was getting a bit pointless (and depressing). Those costs were static, or unavoidable. I'd switched my energy suppliers, reduced my grocery costs as much as was feasible - there was nothing more I could do there. Sometimes, your best is all you can do. And tracking the costs of days out with my son was starting to feel like setting an unneeded limit. 

Instead I decided to focus on the spends I still wanted to reduce - clothing and accessories, books, and cosmetics. I knew what I had spent in those categories in 2021, so for 2022 I decided to keep a running total of just those categories with an annual budget in mind, rather than writing down all my purchases every day. That way I could still purchase if I came across something spectacular, and might not feel quite so obsessed. After a few years focusing on what you can't do, it feels refreshing to look at things from a different angle.

And in fact, I had been wondering - was some of my inability to complete a shopping ban due to my starting point? In 2019 when I first started, I had an awful lot of clothes, which I had been buying in a kind of scattergun approach. Following the end of my previous long-term relationship (thirteen years - over half my life, at the point when it ended) I wasn't really sure who I was as a single person. It was surprising how little I knew about what I liked, and what made me happy. Meeting Dai, having our baby, changed my outlook still further even as it rendered a good chunk of that existing wardrobe obsolete. (I've gone from a size 8/10 to a 14/16, and given it's been three years I don't think I'll be getting much smaller.)

In these recent years with Dai I have been able to explore and fine-tune my tastes, interests, likes and dislikes, and now when I choose clothes it's with a much better idea of who I am, what I will wear and how I want to look. The shopping bans, though they may have failed, served a necessary purpose in slowing me down so I could get to know myself. And my shopping behaviour has changed accordingly. I rarely shop online now, my Amazon wishlist has dwindled to just a handful of books, and I don't waste my evenings endlessly browsing for the 'missing pieces'. I've finally been able to clear out some of the things I really didn't like to wear, and this time I know I've made the right choices - I was braced for regret, but instead I felt relief.

A phrase I often use, in the privacy of my own mind, is, "Be more Glastonbury." This a a reminder to myself that it's okay to be a bit weird, not to be everybody's cup of tea, that sometimes an open mind and a sense of wonder is what you need. (I use Glastonbury because it's somewhere I go regularly, but equally you could substitute Stroud, Brighton or any other quirky, colourful and magical place that attracts seekers of the extraordinary.)

Sometimes, I find that when I use this motto it nudges me towards the bright, sparkly, gift-shop aspects of Glastonbury. I think of flowing skirts, jewel-coloured lipsticks, glittery hair extensions, flower crowns and opalescent nails, fairy wings and bumper stickers that say: 'Caution: Faeries and Elves in back seat'. And whilst I can't deny the appeal of this version of Glastonbury, I've spent the last few years learning that, whilst self-love, self-care and self-esteem are essential, image is fun to play with but it isn't everything.

I tend to obsess about Glastonbury when I'm at home, but when I'm there, it can be a bit overwhelming. I'm comparing myself, watching, worried I might miss something, worried I might lose control and buy everything. Sometimes I get a weird dose of imposter syndrome - should I be 'more different'? Other times I feel other people there are playing a part, all show and no substance, and I feel contemptuous about the pre-packaged gifts and glitz - magic for sale, devoid of meaning. 

But there's no denying that reminding myself to 'be more Glastonbury' has been useful. I've slowly opened my mind to new possibilities, started to dress more the way I really want and stopped worrying about what others think, focused more on creativity, spirituality and well-being, and learned to embrace what makes me happy without needing to compare, judge or label it (or myself).

Being more Glastonbury doesn't (always) mean buying trinkets or adorning myself. Glastonbury also means live music, a community fridge, an organic food co-op (named after my matron goddess), sacred sites, art galleries, a non-toxic hair salon, bookshops and libraries, a magical landscape, being connected to the community and the environment. It has temples and abbeys; ancient wells and sacred springs, deep roots in folklore and myth. It's not just a big shiny shopping centre. I have to remind myself to peek beneath the glossy facade. 

The truth is that I don't think I'm ready to complete a year-long shopping ban. Perhaps, if I spent 2022 being more Glastonbury - enjoying getting dressed, buying less, playing music, finishing that clear-out, sticking to a regular practice of meditation and yoga, reading my unread books, spending time in nature, watching the changing seasons, going barefoot in the garden, avoiding mass-produced products, reading poetry, and finally starting on that novel, then by 2023 I might finally be in the right place to do the thing. But by then, would it even be necessary?