WK6

 

When I think of myself as a consumer, I see someone desperately trying to find happiness through specific material possessions. It’s not the need to have things just for the sake of it that draws me in, it’s more the identity they offer me: if I buy a video game that’s popular, I might be part of the hype and along with that someone relevant, if I wear this, I’ll seem more sophisticated, or even attractive and so on.

My Nintendo Switch was an impulse buy that I convinced my grandma to get me. I loved seeing people talk about it. It looked like a quirky product that every gamer had that was approachable for someone like me that didn’t care much about more “masculine” games. I wanted to be a part of the discussion and wanted to feel like I could both be relevant and unique at the same time. Nintendo focused on more gentle, nostalgic even, aspects of gaming. The adverts showed family, friends, a social aspect to the console that really appealed to me. The game trailers felt extremely hyped up, and seeing the new Zelda game I felt the need to play it because it brought in a sense of nostalgia. The first and only console I ever had was a Nintendo DS original that was also a gift I received from my grandma, the only one that could really afford that kind of stuff in my family, and it was something that brought me a lot of joy as a kid. After seeing so much talk about the new console and what great games it had and how people came together for it, I felt the need to be included and to relive what I felt as a child. I don’t regret having it. I have a lot of fun with it from time to time, but it is at the end of the day a luxury product meant for people that can afford to stay on top of what’s trending in the community – something I don’t have the wallet for.

A purchase that left a strong imprint on my identity and lifestyle are cigarettes. Next summer marks 3 years since I officially became a full-fledged smoker. Not my proudest badge but it’s something I hope to deal away with one day soon. I hope. The first time I bought a packet was when I was 19 years old in the summer of 2018, when my friends from England were visiting. One of them smoked when drinking and we ended up sharing packs day after day. But the need to try them was there for a year or so prior. The packaging looked slick, it looked mature for someone like me who was always perceived as a child even after becoming 18. I had a baby face and I still do. I also have a small stature and cigarettes offered an opportunity to be like the fem fatales in my favorite movies, cigarette in hand – attractive and most importantly mature. Grown up. Taken seriously. Old advertisement and mythology even after being somewhat abandoned influenced my to take up something that’s cool at the expense of my health. It’s a shame because I use to a strong advocate against smoking as a kid. I would even bury my uncle’s cigarettes in the backyard because I wanted him to stay alive. He’s still around but now we smoke together much to my mother’s dismay.

 The last product I can think of that hold some significance for me is makeup. I was very anti-makeup as a kid and a teen, I felt it to be very shallow, but as I started to attend university the new wave of makeup advertisements and promotions on Instagram really reached me. I never took much care in how I look, but coming out of a 4 year long depression and my physical health becoming better after a long time struggling with breathing issues, seeing influences take care of themselves when being different from the typical consumer of makeup felt like an opportunity for expression. Queer, struggling and unconventionally attractive people became important in the beauty community and this opened the door for me to find brands that catered to more alternative styles and ideas. This new millennial marketing sold me expression of individuality through eyeshadow pallets, eyeliners and lipsticks that are now a homestay in my life. I feel like I entered an environment that many take an opportunity to run from of years of dealing with dangerous beauty standards. I don’t think I could give up makeup quite easily, I love the way it makes me feel, the way people treat me differently because of it, but I hope I don’t let it cloud my mind on my actual worth.

 

Laura Oswald’s opens her writing with “Consumers shop for meaning, not stuff” and it hit’s right at the center of our consumer culture. We buy because we’re told from day one that is the standard. Having things, wanting them, going in debt for them is the standard. We are bombarded with the notion that things we buy will give us meaning and some sense of what our life is supposed to be. It’s a brutal tactic to keep people working despite terrible standards just to earn money they will spend on their products, constantly pedaling money into the hands of Capitalists that seek to profit of our very need to exist with purpose. We shop for meaning because us being self-sufficient individuals from finding meaning making our own food to sewing our own clothes is not profitable for the elite. They eliminated actual purpose and sold us a lie, and we take it every time like we should be grateful, not terrified of what this actually means for who we’ve become.