I am more than sick of stuff. And by stuff, I mean STUFF. All of it: television, ad after ad telling us what a great deal it is to buy more and more of it.
I have always had an anti-consumerism spirit about me. My junior and senior years of high school had me exclusively shopping at thrift and vintage clothing stores. But, I mean, it was the mid '90's. It's not like grunge wasn't in full force and I didn't complete the look with a full sea-green head of ManicPanic dyed hair. It was during that time that I stopped listening to commercial radio, going to see anthing other than "art house" movies, and the only label you could see on my clothing hinted that I was an "All Star". Those were the days of my $8 prom dresses and before original clothing was mass produced. When I was as freeded from the contraints of tapered jeans, as the women of the '60's were freed from the shackles of bras. I owned a first generation Victoria's Secret Miracle Bra. And it felt great.
I boycotted Shell for over 10 years due to the atrocities committed against the indiginous people of someplace, somewhere that Shell obtained oil from. And to think of the uproar against drilling in Alaska. I later found out that the Pepsi Corporation was somehow involved, but since google didn't exist yet, it was too difficult to find out in what way. So I continued to drink Pepsi. I know. I'm such a hypocrite.
I eventually ventured back into the mall and that's when I discovered Express was willing to give me a credit card. Suddenly I found myself grabbing a sweet outfit there before the band I was in had a show. It was the year of the pencil skirt and snappy sweater sets. I was hooked. And it helped that the pieces looked great with my actual vintage duds. I had a credit card, soon four of them, and I started buying into the idea that I "deserved" or "needed" to buy something. At least I did it with style, right?