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Edited on Tue Nov-22-05 01:53 PM by Cats Against Frist
I'll give you the details.
For at least ten years, I was choice "A," and happy to be so. I/We lived about as sparingly as possible. When I was with my ex-boyfriend, he had a $50,000/yr job, and I had a $20,000/yr job, and we lived in a very small apartment and drove a used 1993 Jeep Cherokee, and a 1985 Honda Civic hatchback. We bought bargain-basement food, and really didn't do too much. Every once in a while, we'd splurge on clothing, but our only real "treat" was that we went out to a locally owned restaurant, every Saturday night.
But, at that time, I wasn't up on organics, buying American, buying mostly locally, secondhand, making my own stuff, etc., so the little that we did buy was not responsible.
Over the course of about five years, I got educated about buying locally, community-supported ag, learned how to bake and knit and garden, learned about responsible companies, and how to purchase most things secondhand.
Now, I'm with a new boyfriend, we have a son, and we live in a 1600 sq. ft. 1895 Victorian home in BFE in Iowa, we have a 1990 Ford Ranger pick-up, and just traded in our 97 Lumina, on a Made-in-Germany 2001 VW Jetta Wagon. We make about $4,000 a month, after taxes, and though a lot of money still goes to past tuition, overdue student loans, etc., we do buy much more "stuff" than we did, before.
Luckily, I have learned about how to be a responsible consumer, and research most companies and products, before I buy things from them. I make as much as I can, from scratch, purchase used goods or responsibly made goods, and buy secondhand. I'm more into home decorating, and we have a few more electronic gadgets than we used to, but mostly, we're still very thrifty.
The answer to the philsophical question is this: I don't know. I don't know if I'm happier NOW, or before. The steady income is "gentrifying" me, and, I'm not sure how to handle it. It has permeated every aspect of my existence. I used to wear the same clothes, every day, never brush my teeth or wash my hair, chainsmoke, and I was a lot more grumpy. But, now, I take much better care of myself, eat organic food, drive this shiny blue car, and live in this fairytale-looking house. It's weird. I remember, when I was a minimalist, I had completly lobbied for the abolition of material wealth, and had honestly gotten past almost all consumerism, and I'm now, more often, finding things that I don't need, but I want. It's the "want" that bothers me, and I don't wish for that to consume my life.
I was raised by two consumer television watchers, who, despite the fact that they're Dems, are the ultimate caricature of the wasteful American. They're overweight, they have a giant SUV, eat at McDonald's, shop at Wal-Mart, follow American Idol like it's the second coming, have puffy couches, eat white bread, etc. They're good people, though, and somehow they managed to still teach me a lot more than consumption. Perhaps my concern with it has always been a backlash against my parents.
I had a REAL HARD TIME buying the VW, because of how "typical," it is, for a liberal, organic food-eating, egghead-glasses-wearing "poet," to be cruising around in a Jetta Wagon, particularly because my boyfriend we be replacing his truck with a Westfalia, when it poops out.
I didn't want to become this caricature. Or, did I? What is it that compels me toward these things? I'm sure some of it is marketing, and some of it is this: very few people, despite their proclaimed "non-prejudice," and their egalitarianism, are open to people who are so "out there," that they don't follow the normal conventions. In some ways, I miss that slovenly, dirty girl that I was, but "cleaning up," has gained me respect in a population that you wouldn't think would: writers and artists.
I hang out mostly with Seattle liberals and writers and scupltors, and we're all practically mirror images of each other. Even some of the most "innovative" poets in the nation -- you get them all in a room, and they look similar, they act similar, and they do similar things. Some might get more drunk than others, or operate under some kind of semi-hedonistic narrative, but it doesn't change the fact that the person comes rolling up to the grad house, stepping out of their small, foreign car with a falafel sandwich and a Naked juice. There are very few people who truly deviate from the norm. Perhaps its because of class -- almost all of us have been through grad school, and are the children of relatively affluent, white parents -- many are Ivy League undergrads, which has always mystified me.
On the other hand, I used to hang out with a band of n'er-do-wells in Fremont, in Seattle, and most of them were poor and drunk all the time, and didn't have the "creature comforts," but many of them still dressed "alternative" and had the thick-rimmed glasses, and listened to and watched the same stuff.
Sorry this is such a ramble, but this all just fascinates me. To answer your question about "buying what we can, because we could die tomorrow," I think I will say: "with all things, moderation." I guess I would just say that, myself included, that when we buy into the mass-market, we become mass-marketed people. The best thing would be to stave off as much of this as possible, while still being semi-comfortable, and making the most of the money you earn. I see no shame in that, like I used to. I just wish that people would diversify, non-homogenize, and be more eclectic and responsible consumers.
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