The Problem With Shopping - Time
Shopping doesn’t have to be problematic. Whaaaat? Most people don’t have a problem with shopping. According to various internet sources, somewhere between 5-8% of people are compulsive shoppers or shopping addicts, and men and women are just about equally as likely to be affected. While 5-8% might net out to a objectively large number of people, it’s a relatively small proportion of the population - just 1 in 20 to 1 in about 13.
I haven’t yet measured myself up to the criteria for shopping addiction, which was apparently removed from the psychiatrists’ bible of mental health diagnoses (the DSM) in 2013 for lack of research. Rather, I’ve labeled myself a shopaholic because I’ve recognized that I don’t feel good about my shopping behavior, I don’t have proper control over it, and I can no longer handle this situation with kid gloves if I want to change it. It’s time to call it for what it is.
But the diagnostic criteria are not what I want to get into in this post. Instead, I want to use today’s post to start unpacking some of the collateral damage of an uncontrolled shopping habit. Why? Because I’m typically a rather rational and value-driven being, and I think taking a hard look at the indirect or unintended impact of a nasty shopping habit may help me break the compulsion cycle that often leads up to a purchase.
What does the Shopping Compulsion Cycle look like?
I see something I like.
I visualize how that something will look on me, how I’ll feel wearing it, how I will style it, the places and situations in which I’ll wear it, and how others will perceive me as I wear it.
I obsess over the something I like and all the visualizations I’ve built around it.
I obtain the something I like and feel TRIUMPH! 🙌
This cycle has both direct impacts - the acquisition of the item itself and the costs of obtaining it (item cost + tax +/- shipping) - and indirect impacts. It would be easy to just measure my shopping behavior by its direct impacts on my closet and my bank account, but stopping the assessment there fails to account for the full lifecycle of a shopping act. I want to start dissecting the indirect impacts of my shopping from the innermost circle of impact - the personal circle.
The most insidious personal indirect impact of my uncontrolled shopping habit is the consumption of my TIME.
Let’s look at steps 2 and 3 of the Shopping Compulsion Cycle: between visualizing and obsessing over the something I like, I may spend HOURS searching for the item online, scouring the internet for a coupon or sale on the item, turning over every internet stone for a satisfying alternative if it’s a really expensive item, and then sometimes continuing to monitor after the purchase to ensure I didn’t buy prematurely and miss out on a better deal on the item. It’d be one thing if someone was paying me to do such thorough and detailed shopping sleuthing, but NO ONE IS! I’m spending my own precious time sniffing out every nook and cranny of the shopping rabbit hole to satisfy the burning desire set ablaze by my habitual visualizing and obsessing. Time I could be spending working on something more productive, constructive, fulfilling, expanding, etc.
The potential time suck doesn’t stop there. The Shopping Compulsion Cycle isn’t the happily ever after story it wants you to think it is. Like any fairy tale, the story doesn’t just stop after its written conclusion. The triumph of step 4 of the Cycle isn’t always everlasting. Once acquired, the item may fit poorly or otherwise not meet the expectations created during the visualization phase of the cycle. (One thing I’m actually really good about when it comes to shopping is not purchasing or keeping something that I don’t absolutely love without qualifications. If I have to tug at it, constantly adjust it, only wear it with a belt, etc. then it’s not for me and it’s going back.)
When reality throws cold water on my triumph, I often enjoy a commensurate wash of warm relief and satisfaction. Why? Because I get to return the item and recoup most if not all of my direct costs while also perversely reassuring myself that see? I do have some control. Of course, what I won’t get back is the indirect time cost I’ve already invested OR the time (and often fuel or public transpo) cost I will invest to return the item. The time spent returning a shopping haul can again add up to hours in some cases.
How much time have I spent visualizing, obsessing over, searching, monitoring, and returning clothing items over the years? I don’t know. I don’t think I want to know. What I do know for certain is that I’ve spent entirely too much time engaging in these activities and I’d prefer to use my time more productively going forward. Whether that’s time spent working on myself, my business, or my relationships, the ROI is sure to be exponentially better compared to time spent in the shopping lifecycle.