Consumer Vertigo

Virginia Postrel writes in her article, Consumer Vertigo, about the vast amounts of choices we face in our daily lives. To her, the choices make us who we are, and they are a good thing. One year ago, I would have agreed with her, but now I do not. Decisions that should be simple or insignificant are made into complicated ordeals. When we go to the supermarket we are overwhelmed with brands and types and variations of the same product, and it doesn’t help us, it only confuses us. It doesn’t free us, it makes us more unhappy.

I had always enjoyed buying specific foods at the supermarket, but at the same time, it was time consuming. Standing in front of all the cheese options and assessing which I would choose, then bread, then sandwich meat, then cereal took a lot of time. I wasn’t a slow shopper, but to get through all of the aisles is a task.

Then, about a year ago I moved to London. I rented a room of a small home in the ghetto, and there were no supermarkets where I lived. The markets were no bigger than a one car garage, and there were no choices when it came to food. If you wanted bread, they had one loaf; milk, a carton that said milk; turkey sandwich meat, they had ham today. And it really bothered me for the first month. I didn’t want ham. And even if I did, I wouldn’t want that kind. I didn’t just want milk, I wanted 1%. The unfamiliar brands and Turkish labels stressed me out a little.

The second month came around, and the lack of choice didn’t bother me anymore. Shopping for food was easy now; I would just walk in, grab a few things and go home. I didn’t worry about not having that specific kind of cheese, any cheese would do.

Several months later, my friend came to visit me for two weeks. We both stayed in my tiny room and made our lunches to save on hotel and food costs. When I took her to a market, she was totally appalled at the lack of choice, as I tried to convince her to just pick something, but it was hard for her too.

Now, back in the states, when I go shopping I don’t care if the supermarkets have the brand of cereal that I was looking for, I just choose something else and go on. And I kind of miss just going in a store and making a 3 minute grocery stop. Bread, milk, cheese, cereal, apples, check out, and go home. No one needs to choose from forty different loaves of bread. We may like to, and like to think that in a way, our bread choice defines us, but it reveals our culture to be superfluous.

I didn’t realize how dependant I was on these products, until those were not an option at all. The lack of choice was liberating for me. I had to train myself to not be reliant on these brands and products that I was used to and once I did, it was, in a way, freeing. A year ago, I would have said that I disagree with Postrel’s article, because then I liked the variety and endless choices. Twenty different cheddars was great, because I could choose the one I wanted. Now, I feel all these choices are excessive, unnecessary, and a waste of time and space.