Tithing To The Church Of Stop Shopping

Even the most savvy and cost-conscious of us sometimes get sidetracked by circumstance. As this Dame magazine essayist learned the hard way, when certain life-changes scramble our brains and routines, we are apt to start shopping like there is no heaven and the only joy is to be found down here on Earth, specifically at Bloomingdales.

I usually have to get to the point where I’m down to one article of clothing without holes before I’ll drag my ass to a store. Plus, I’ve got a history of (relative) frugality: While commuting to my glossy women’s-magazine job, I brown-bagged my lunch, swilled gallons of free office coffee, bought sensibly priced shoes (this devil wore Aerosoles). More crucially, I’d carefully socked away savings for years while paying off my credit card in full every month.

I had always anticipated that transitioning from full-time-with-benefits to freelance would cause me to hack my cash outlay to near-Amish levels. So why did I start spending like the wife of a tinpot dictator?

A therapist — and then a close encounter with her credit card bill — helped the author regain control of herself. The therapist also pointed out that there is a practical, rational component to this phenomenon. What she was doing made sense.

When you have more free time, he said, you have more time to think about stuff you want to buy.

That’s what happened to Lauren, a media executive who was laid off last year. After leaving her high-pressure position, she found that “everything felt like an opportunity. An opportunity to buy a cupcake, to browse at a store. For two years, I didn’t have time to buy anything in person. Now, I feel such a sense of freedom that I want to have all these normal experiences all at once.” She added, “I have been spending a ton” — like $30 for a pound of scallops for dinner — “mostly just because I’m so thrilled to be out and about after years chained to a desk.”

The same compulsion can grip you when you are chained to a desk, of course. Someone close to me was complaining recently about how unfulfilling her job is and how that makes her spend more money online than she would like: she’s bored, and the Internet is RIGHT THERE.

But being out of the traditional workforce is a real risk-factor. According to a recent NYT analysis of how unemployed men and women spend their time, shopping is a significant part of the average woman’s day, especially between the hours of 10:00 AM and 5:00 PM. (Don’t get all superior, though, dudes. Women still spend way more time on “Housework” and “Caring for Others,” while men spend their time on “TV and Movies,” rather than, I don’t know, “Saving the World” or “Learning to Dance Like Channing Tatum.”)

There are some hacks you can try to keep from falling prey to this phenomenon yourself and waking one day from a blackout half buried by boxes from Zappos and Sierra Trading Post. They’re pretty straightforward. Don’t let sites store your data, so that the transaction retains as many steps as possible; that will ensure that you have opportunities to ask yourself, “Do I really need another bright orange crop top?” Perhaps even block the sites from your browser altogether, at least during danger hours.

Ultimately, though, stress-shopping, like stress-eating, is misdirected anxiety. You have to feel your feelings to get through it, instead of shopping your feelings or eating them. Figure out what’s bothering you — the fact that we live in a dystopian capitalist hellscape that provides us with only the thinnest illusion of control, perhaps, but, you know, I’m not a doctor — and deal with that, rather than repressing it by whipping out your MasterCard.

Hosannah.

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