On a cultural excursion through Harlem, I was pulled into H&M located on 125 West 125th Street, or some such address. My heart, which is stimulated usually by good conversation and excellent company, became excited at the mere sight of clothes and hangers. I had a strange desire to possess pretty clothes.
Several months ago, when I felt I needed to occupy my brain with frivolous activity to keep it from thinking about important things, I began shopping alone. Normally, I do not enjoy the company of other females unless there is an explicit understanding that she will satisfy a specific function--e.g. pick out something matching and perfect for me to wear. I have never gone shopping when boys, and would never subject another human being to the mundane activity of matching tops and bottoms. However, shopping when done alone alone, can be productive as well as efficient.
But there has been a change. Today, as I walked into H&M , which I agree is the cheapest and of the poorest quality material, I felt strangely excited, happy even to be in a room with so much possibility. I wanted to buy so much, and not necessarily for myself. I had a strange desire to be seen in these pretty clothes. Consumerism, which I had ranted about for years, had finally come to bite me in the ass. It is the media brainwashing that tells you that you need a certain product to make you happy, that your deficiencies will be cured and the quality of your life enhanced with Product XYZ & Co. Believing this media mumbojumbocrap, I now see clothes as a means to an end that is self esteem. Clothing enhances your self perception of yourself, which in turn, affects how others see you (often this paradigm is reversed, with your perceptions being influenced by the opinions of others). Of course, you can be as satisfied without the material amassing of clothes, but when another person is involved, theories become complicated. There is an inexplicable desire now to look good, to unfrizz the hair, to pedicure the toes, to do all the silly womanly things that seemed once irrational and stupid.
I cannot fully explain this change.
Several months ago, when I felt I needed to occupy my brain with frivolous activity to keep it from thinking about important things, I began shopping alone. Normally, I do not enjoy the company of other females unless there is an explicit understanding that she will satisfy a specific function--e.g. pick out something matching and perfect for me to wear. I have never gone shopping when boys, and would never subject another human being to the mundane activity of matching tops and bottoms. However, shopping when done alone alone, can be productive as well as efficient.
But there has been a change. Today, as I walked into H&M , which I agree is the cheapest and of the poorest quality material, I felt strangely excited, happy even to be in a room with so much possibility. I wanted to buy so much, and not necessarily for myself. I had a strange desire to be seen in these pretty clothes. Consumerism, which I had ranted about for years, had finally come to bite me in the ass. It is the media brainwashing that tells you that you need a certain product to make you happy, that your deficiencies will be cured and the quality of your life enhanced with Product XYZ & Co. Believing this media mumbojumbocrap, I now see clothes as a means to an end that is self esteem. Clothing enhances your self perception of yourself, which in turn, affects how others see you (often this paradigm is reversed, with your perceptions being influenced by the opinions of others). Of course, you can be as satisfied without the material amassing of clothes, but when another person is involved, theories become complicated. There is an inexplicable desire now to look good, to unfrizz the hair, to pedicure the toes, to do all the silly womanly things that seemed once irrational and stupid.
I cannot fully explain this change.
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