Label Whore

Ebay and Amazon. Those are two webpages I surf into frequently in a mist of "must have". A steady stream of packages arrive at my door step containing books, clothes and other knick-knakcks. It starts with a hunt for interesting objects. Page up and page down of more or less desirable things. Then the bidding starts. What should my strategy be? What should my maximum bid be? In my mail box messages come that I have won certain auctions and that I have been outbid in others with the question if I want to bid higher. I have to confess that I more often than seldom break my maximum limit. Just one more bid and it is MINE!

Do you start seeing a pattern?

I have clothes up to my neck, literaly. In my wardrobe I have representatives from Hugo Boss, Donna Karan, Tommy Hillfiger, Vivienne Westwood and Jean-Paul Gaultier. To what use one can ask? Do I became happier because I have a belt from Gucci around my waist? The answer is of course no. A small rush of happiness that lasts for five to ten minutes after the actual purchase and then it is just another thing sacrificed on the altar of consumption.

Our result obsessed society wants us to consume and top last years sale figures. Money makes the world go round. Both you and I know that when we have pulled our heads up from the sand we stand in front of the cold, hard fact that there is a limit of what we can spend, can consume and what our planet can handle.

There are people out the there in the real world, outside this digital bubble, who spend thousands of pounds on things they don't really need and put themselves in debt. They are stuck in a whirlwind where shopping is the same as happiness and stuck in a dependence just as strong as the one that drugs induce.

I'm not in debt because of my shopping. Thank heavens! But I know myself and I have the strength to stand up and admit that I'm a label whore.

//P.