Don't mind me - just giving into temptation.
no-buy year | week 5
This post is part of my no-buy series for 2024. To catch up on what you might have missed, click here. If you enjoy The Nook, please consider upgrading to a paid subscription.
Well, I caved.
I made it four whole weeks before the siren song of the thrift store lured me away from my earnest dedication to buy nothing for myself, and then I jumped off the cliff with gusto.
Okay, okay, that’s an exaggeration. But I waded in the water. Splashed about for a bit while looking over my shoulder for sharks. (Are we done with this metaphor yet?)
Our house has been in chaos because of our impending move. By Friday of last week, I couldn’t take it anymore. It was too many people. Too many paint fumes. Too much mess. I bought Starbucks for me and my husband that morning, just because I wanted to, and later went to Goodwill under the guise of searching for a dress for my niece’s wedding later this year. She’s getting married in September. You can see how necessary it was.
I didn’t find a dress for her wedding, but I did find a dress. The perfect, prairie woman dress with the button front and the bishop sleeves and the tie around the waist. The dress I’ve wanted to buy from more expensive, sustainable brands for years but haven’t because they cost hundreds of dollars. The one I got was a Target brand and just as lovely. It was also in my size. So. Who’s really at fault here? Me? Or the woman who was so careless as to donate a dress I’ve coveted for longer than I’ve had this Substack?
In the store, I bundled the fabric in my arms and shuffled to the register as though someone was going to snatch it out of my hands and scream into their stories about my lack of commitment to new and improved ways of being. (Old shame dies hard.)
I could have left it behind. I even asked myself, “Do I need this?” whilst holding it aloft with heart-eye emojis floating off my face. No, of course, I didn’t need it. But will I wear it every week in spring and fall until it fades to gray and rips under the arms? BET.
I own this purchase. I mean, sure, I literally own it now, but also in the meta sense. No one forced my hand. I weighed whether it was an item that would get regular use, which it was, and then I bought it. I made peace with it before I even got to my car. (Which is no mean feat, I can promise you that.)
It’s so easy to pendulum swing back and forth from perfectionism to failure, even though neither of those things exists in the totally made-up game I created for myself. So much of the world is binary and we are hardwired to tidy things in boxes easily labeled. If I do that, though, I miss the forest for the trees. A no-buy year is about getting curious, asking hard questions of myself, and seeking consideration for how I can make our finances serve my family well, rather than the other way around. The purchase of a secondhand dress I’ll wear a thousand times is outside the spending guidelines, but it’s also inside the parameters of what to consider when buying a piece of clothing. It’s multi-seasonal, comfortable, well-made, and it has been on my list for a long time. Ergo, I make the rules and I say it’s allowed.
Next time, though, I’m bringing a friend. Just in case.
Dying to see pic of actual dress 😍