Sizing up our shopping habits

Whoever said that you cannot sell something to someone who doesn’t need it was a hermit who didn’t know women and their preposterous buying habits. This old marketing rhetoric falls flat in front of our innate weakness for impulsive buying and compulsive shopping, a trait that by now has become almost central in deciding marketing strategies and devising sales tactics in global board rooms. Remember the corny joke about the spending woman that our scrimpy men love to crack repeatedly, a jibe that they take at us given the slightest opportunity? Trust a woman to buy
junk and lug it home just because she got it for a song! Guys, we are not amused, although you are somewhat right!
I say, do the mathematics and see our womanly wisdom before passing uncouth remarks on our
penchant for shrink wrapped, bundle offers. An entire assortment for the price of half! What a steal! And the crystal bowl that was once so prohibitive is selling dirt cheap. Not for me, of course. But it might help to keep it, just in case there is an urgent, unexpected need to gift a friend - a sudden, unannounced birthday bash or a baby shower. It always makes sense to keep
things in stock, for you never know when an emergency would arise. And we like to be prepared for exigencies.
Our men have made such a sport of censuring our buying decisions. What a shame that they don’t factor in needs of the future while making household purchases! I remember how buying
eight kilos of detergent on a bargain almost caused a domestic melt down once.
“Planning to start a laundry?” He asked.
“Nope. Just grabbing an opportunity. Eight kilos and a softener at this price. It is a deal for heaven’s sake and how can we let it go?”
“All this? Do you plan to hire your neighbour’s room to store this? This will last till my retirement.
Do we really wear and wash so many clothes? You use detergents as if I come home every evening after playing kabbadi. No wonder my trousers and shirts wear a bleached look in two months….”
Shrugging off the exaggeration, I rolled my eyes in the way exasperated wives do and growled, “Do I ask you questions about your work in the office, how you go about your business of buying materials? Ever?”
I don’t think we exchanged so much as a glance for the rest of the grunt-laden day. The detergent however came home. The intensions of a determined woman cannot be thwarted, you see.
Come to think of it seriously, regular home supplies might make a case for all our excessive buying and storing, but not crockery and cutlery, lamp shades and candle holders, flower vases and floor mats, bed spreads and show pieces that we often pick up and drop into our shopping carts offhandedly. I am not even beginning to mention clothes and other fashion accessories. We ourselves have been snowed under an avalanche many times while opening our cupboards. Oh! We go so hopelessly weak in the knees at the sight of a bargain board. Throw in the word “sale” and see us up our ante rod straight, turn our blinkers on and gather details.
One only has to stroll leisurely through the aisles of a store to hear couples squabbling over use and disuse, need and extravagance. The altercations that fall on my ears give me the smug satisfaction of not being alone in presenting our men folk their pet peeve.
I have changed homes eight times in fourteen years across three countries and over my multiple experiences of packing and moving, I have wisened up. I have cleared clutters and stopped accumulating. The most remarkable discovery I have made in these learning years is that I can actually walk out of a store without falling for inducements and be happy about it. I don’t regret leaving those enticements behind because they are things I simply don’t need in my life. Yet I go store browsing and window shopping extensively, not just for the love of it, but also to be a shopping guide unto myself in times of need.