Revealing my Consumeristic Side

Overheard and Unforgotten:
Place: Home Decor Store
Scene: Two women talking while examining art prints for sale
"I really should get some art for my living room."
"How's the redecorating coming?"
"We've finished the painting, it's a burnt orange. I'm putting in terracotta tile."
"This picture would match."
(Barely glances at it) "Yeah, it sure would. I'll take it."

I have been thinking a lot lately about consumerism. It's a topic triggered in part by the past mad rush of Christmas, and in part by my recent trip to the West Edmonton Mall, the self-proclaimed "world's largest entertainment and shopping centre." I love to shop, and I love clothes, and decorating, and trying new products for my home/bath/baby/dining pleasure. So it's been really kind of an awakening experience to realize that, in pursuing these passions, I am allowing myself to be manipulated by people whose motive is their own personal gain.

I found this quote on Wikipedia:
It is in the interest of product advertisers and marketers that the consumer's needs and desires never be completely or permanently fulfilled. Doing so effectively prevents further consumption and reduces the future potential profits of the marketer from the consumer.

Before Christmas, I was listening to CBC Radio and they were talking about catalogues like Crate & Barrel and how they are selling less a product than a lifestyle. They give you the picture of what we are all supposed to believe is the perfect room, and the unspoken message is that we need to have a home that looks like that, and in some unexplained way, this will result in a perfect life. Television commercials do this - rather than selling us a snack food, they show us how sharing our chips will magically connect us to our friends or even to complete strangers. I don't really buy the whole potato product/bonding line, but I have been a patsy for perfect home/perfect life which really equals imperfect home/dissatisfied with life.

Strolling the West Edmonton Mall, surrounded by giant SALE signs, garments jammed together in a post-Christmas hangover, jaded salespeople swiping cards without making eye contact, I realized that I am tired of supporting this. When I step into a clothing store and everything I like seems similar in style or colour to something I already own, maybe the problem isn't that fashion has gotten derivative, maybe it's that I have enough.

I do want to sell paintings - I just don't have the wall space to keep them all - and I have to pay for framing the next piece, after all. But I don't want to sell art to the woman I described at the beginning of this post. I don't want to be a consumer who is buying just to be a part of a giant production/consumption machine. When I make a purchase, I want it to be because my spirit was touched - because something about that item made me smile, or brought back a memory, or reached my heart in some way I couldn't even describe. I hope my clients feel that way too.