This past weekend I was at a Christian music and arts festival. I went to a talk on consumerism. I don’t remember exactly what the talk said, but it’s kept my internal monologue alive.
I am left observing the shallowness of consumerism – especially blatant extravagant consumerism. I feel quite morbid about it and my view of it. We turn to things to make us cooler, happier and more fulfilled. We rely on wasting our money in hopes that having a wardrobe full of clothes is going to change our lives.
I’ve done that though, I’ve been there. Like I’ve previously mentioned I own 40 pairs of shoes and 15 scarves and I rarely wear shoes nor scarves. I’m in a position to say this- a full wardrobe gives you one thing, a full wardrobe.
Does this revelation mean my love for clothes has diminished? No, not at all! Simply, I have accepted that I only wear a few things so why am I trying to turn everything into a collection?
My past insistence of constantly purchasing new things is confronting and the roots run deep. Whenever I’m out now I find myself holding something pretty while repeating ‘I have enough dresses! I have enough dresses!’
For myself anyway, my consumerism is a mask and a blanket to cover a multitude of insecurities and consumer driven notions that are going to take a lot to remove, however, my busting at the seams closet and bank accounts are begging for me to try.