I like to think that Mr. W and I do our best to resist consumerist
trends and behaviors. For instance, we
don’t own an iPad or an e-reader. I only
have a smartphone because it is provided by my employer. My car is 11 years old and I bought it
used. Mr. W’s car has an unsightly dent
that he hasn’t fixed because the damage is purely cosmetic. We live in a part of town that most of our friends
probably consider “unhip.” It’s
perfectly safe, but it’s just not where most young professionals would want to
live (one of our acquaintances smirked, raised her overly waxed eyebrows, and
said, “ooooh… really?” after learning where we lived. Whatever).
That’s not to say, of course, that I haven’t followed
consumerist trends from time to time: I definitely have. And, I’m ashamed to say that it was usually
motivated by perceived peer pressure and my own desire to keep up with
the so-called Joneses. My behavior
was most egregious during college. When
I attended college, I left my hometown in California to attend a university
outside of Philadelphia. I found myself
in an entirely new environment and part of an entirely new social circle. None of my new college friends were
especially materialistic and they didn’t flaunt expensive purchases. However, trends on the East Coast were pretty
different from the trends on the West Coast.
I found myself wanting to follow along with the trends so that I would
fit in with my new friends. I didn’t really
care if I could fit in with the public at large, but I did care about the
opinions of my friends. It was as if I thought that buying the same stuff everyone else had
would help me to forge meaningful relationships (wow…was I in middle school
again?).
I present to you, in ascending price order, a list of stuff
I bought simply to keep up with the collegiate Joneses.
Soffe Shorts
($8/each):
Do you know what Soffe shorts are? I didn’t, until I started college. They’re just tight-fitting cotton shorts with
an elastic waistband. Trust me when I
say that there is nothing special about these shorts. They don’t even make your tail end look good,
a la Lululemon attire. But all my
friends wore them while lounging around the dorms, so I figured I ought to have
them, as well. At $8 per pair, they
didn’t exactly break the bank…until I decided to buy them in seven colors. And of course, I had to buy the pair with the name of my alma mater stamped across
the rear (cue dramatic eyeroll, shall we?).
Nalgene Water Bottles
($17/each):
Nalgene water bottles were hugely popular on my college
campus. The ones sold at our student
bookstore were approximately the size of a Big Gulp, and virtually
indestructible. Most students would take
them to the dining halls and fill them up with soda/water/iced tea to chug
throughout the day. The bottles came in
bright colors, prominently displaying the name of our alma mater. They were $17 a pop, which seemed like a
steep price for a plastic water bottle.
But I figured that I would reuse a Nalgene bottle for years, so the cost
per use would be minimal. With that
reasoning, I bought myself a Nalgene.
Within a matter of weeks, I accidentally left it in a classroom. Then I bought myself a replacement Nalgene. I lost this second Nalgene by placing it on
the roof of my car and driving away. I
hope that someone picked up those water bottles and is making use of the $34 I
wasted.
123rf.com |
By the time I was a senior in college, Nalgenes had been
trumped by Sigg water bottles. Sigg was the new “IT” bottle. I’m not even sure why Sigg became so
popular. It’s essentially an aluminum
canteen that is 1) not insulated at all, 2) difficult to use while exercising,
and 3) nearly impossible to clean. But
they just looked so cool. And there was a scarcity factor, which made
them seem that much cooler. Whereas
Nalgenes could be bought en masse at
the campus bookstore, Sigg bottles were much harder to come by. Theoretically, you could purchase them online
– except that the Sigg website was always sold out. I checked Whole Foods frequently to scope out
their Sigg inventory. I eventually
bought myself two aluminum bottles at a whopping $19 each. I haven’t lost them yet, but I also haven’t
used them in about a year.
123rf.com |
Vera Bradley Totes
($42/each)
I had been familiar with Vera Bradley totes prior to
starting college. My grandmother and her
friends were fond of the floral quilted handbags, and purchased them in many
patterns and styles. However, I had
never seen someone my age carrying a Vera Bradley bag. In my experience, it was a brand that was
marketed towards a more mature customer.
Once I started college, it seemed like every female student owned at least
one – if not several – of these floral quilted totes. Some of the floral patterns were fun, but
some reminded me of a tapestry. At the
end of my freshmen year, I purchased myself a preppy pink and green VB tote for
$42. It ended up being a worthy purchase
since the tote was the perfect size to carry a day’s worth of books and
notebooks while trekking from class to class.
North Face TriClimate
Jacket ($228)
When I started college, I didn’t own a “real” winter
jacket. I simply hadn’t needed one in
California. Sure, I had some sort of peacoat
that I had purchased on sale for $30. But
it was barely substantial enough to keep me warm during the mild Southern
California winters. As Thanksgiving
approached and the temperature dropped, I realized that my peacoat was just not
going to cut it. I noticed that all my
college classmates wore these nifty North Face “TriClimate” jackets. They were three-in-one contraptions consisting
of a soft inner jacket and a lightweight waterproof/wind resistant shell. The two jackets could be worn separately or zipped
together to maximize warmth. Voila –
convertible outerwear! How ingenious is that?! (yes,
I realize that convertible outerwear is passé to anyone who has grown up in
cold weather. But it was a game changer
to me). I decided I had to have one, especially since
they were available in un-hideous colors.
While I was home for winter break, I used my Christmas money and
splurged on a North Face jacket. It was
$228, which was at least four times more than I had ever paid for a single item
of clothing. On top of that, I paid 8.5%
California sales tax on the jacket.
Pennsylvania doesn’t assess sales tax on clothing, so I could have saved
myself nearly $20 by buying the jacket closer to school. I did
wear the jacket frequently while in college, but ended up selling it on eBay
for $50. I realized that parkas weren’t
really my style, and saved my money towards better a better quality peacoat,
instead.
Thankfully, I never indulged in the most expensive campus
trends, such as Tory Burch flats or Chanel sunglasses. All in all, I don’t think I was too frivolous
with money during my college years, although I definitely had some weak moments. Admittedly, the financial impact of buying an $8 pair of shorts was relatively minimal. However, the tendency to succumb to financial peer pressure -- real or imagined -- can be dangerous regardless of the dollar amount. Thinking back to the college years has helped me to identify ways that I have been susceptible to financial peer pressure in the past, so that I can avoid similar behavior in the future, when the stakes are likely to be much higher.