Straight out of 'Confessions of a Shopaholic'

I hate shopping. I've always hated shopping. You've already seen my interest in clothing, so imagine my deeper disinterest in designer clothing.

But not many share this indifference. Consider this recent headline: "Versace sample sale in New York City shut down by cops after fights break out among more than 1,000 shoppers: 'They're going crazy.'"

LOL: Straight out of "Confessions of a Shopaholic."

Shopping, ug

Last week, I did something I've been trying to do as infrequently as possible: I went into the city for some shopping.

I go as infrequently as possible for several reasons: (1) I hate shopping; (2) it's a long ways away; (3) it's increasingly expensive.

It's the expensive part I'd like to discuss today, because last week's shopping expedition was eye-opening.

When I go to the city, I go almost exclusively to hit the big box stores, and I tend to buy the same thing every time (toilet paper, cheese, etc.). The stores I go to most frequently are Winco, Costco, and Chef's Store (formerly Cash'n'Carry, a wholesale restaurant-supply store). And here's the interesting thing: I've been saving the receipts. These receipts give a snapshot of price increases over the last couple of years.

Let's start with toilet paper. We always buy Costco's Kirkland brand. On Oct. 26, 2021, a bundle cost $16.99.

On Jan. 11, 2022, the price had increased to $17.99.

On Aug. 30, 2022, the price was $18.99.

Last week, the price was up to $19.99.

We also enjoy Costco-brand pesto. In March of 2022, the price was $9.49.

The price had risen to  $9.99 by August 20, 2022:

Last week, the same product was $11.99.

How about dog food? We purchase a brand called Nutra Nuggets. On Jan. 11, 2022, the price was $26.99:

On March 9, 2022, the price was $29.99:

Last week, the price was $35.69:

My favorite vegetable is broccoli. For years I've purchased three-pound bags of broccoli florets from either Costco or (preferably) Chef's Store. Last week I went into Chef's Store and gaped at the empty vegetable cooler.

The potato and onion section was also sparse.

When I inquired of an employee about the status of vegetables in general and broccoli in particular, she shook her head. "We haven't been able to get much by way of produce," she said.

This is a store, you understand, that caters to restaurants. When I remarked that it must be causing great hardship to restaurants, she nodded in vigorous agreement. "We're getting about half of what we order," she said. "But with produce, we're getting even less of that."

So, unable to find broccoli at Chef's Store, I tried Costco. Last March, I got my usual three-pound bag for $5.99:

Last week, the only – the only! – broccoli they had in stock was a two-pound bag of organic for $5.99:

This isn't exactly comparing apples to apples, since organic tends to cost more anyway. But the fact that broccoli was scarce or absent from both Costco and Chef's Store was telling.

At Chef's Store, I had mayonnaise on my list. Normally I purchase this in gallon jugs (Don's a sandwich guy, so we go through a fair bit of mayo; plus we repurpose the empty mayo jugs for endless uses). I hadn't bought mayo in a long time, so I don't have paper proof of the earlier cost, but one thing is certain: It sure as heck wasn't $25.35 a gallon. 

After sputtering in shock for a moment, I purchased a gallon of the house-brand mayo for $15.55, which is far closer to the price I had previously paid for Kraft. (I'm not married to Kraft as a brand, you understand; what I'm married to is the wonderful jug with a handle. We reuse these jugs constantly.)

Olive oil was up. In January of 2022, it was $18.99 for a gallon. Last week it was $21.65.

Cheese was up. In March of 2022, it was $16.29 for a five-pound block. Last week it was $18.60.

Dog biscuits were up. In October of 2021, a 20-lb. box from Winco was $22.38. Last week, the same was $26.18.

Then I took myself to Walmart. I seldom shop at Walmart, even on my rare city excursions, but this time I had a mishmash of odd things I was looking for. Interestingly, one of those oddball things was a product called Covermate, which is like a plastic shower cap for food bowls.

We wash and reuse these for years, but eventually they give out. The only place I've ever found them is Walmart, so that was on my list.

I walked into the plastic-wrap aisle of Walmart and stopped short. What was up with this?

Is there a shortage of plastic wrap and bags and food coverings I'm unaware of? (I ended up ordering a few bags of Covermates online.)

Another item I wanted was the Walmart-brand of Loratadine (both Don and Older Daughter have allergies). They had plenty in stock, but I did notice the shortages of cold medicines for both children and adults. That is a shortage I've been hearing about.

I was so glad to put the city behind me and flee back home, let me tell you. It always takes me a day or two to recover from such excursions.

So what are you seeing as far as prices and availability goes? Have you noticed shortages? Let us know.

A whole different set of vices

Recently I read a book called Give It Up! My Year of Learning to Live Better with Less by Mary Carlomagno on how she tried to simplify her life by giving up a particular vice every month.

It was a mildly interesting book, but not one I could particularly relate to. It took me awhile to figure out why.

The premise of the book is to give up one vice per month (and then resume the vice the next month). Here's what the author gave up:

January -- Alcohol
February -- Shopping
March -- Elevators
April -- Newspapers
May -- Cell phones
June -- Dining out
July -- Television
August -- Taxis
September -- Coffee
October -- Cursing
November -- Chocolate
December -- Multitasking

The reason I couldn't relate very much is because I don't suffer from any of these vices.

I should explain that at the time the book was written, the author was a single woman living in Jersey and working in New York City. She was an admitted partyer and felt the need to reduce some of the things that were costing her a lot in terms of time, money, and health.

Now it's hard to compare a single urban childless woman to a married rural woman with kids, but nonetheless here's why I couldn't relate to the author's particular vices:

Alcohol -- I have a glass of wine about four times a week. I drink boxed wine. Who can afford bar drinks?
Shopping -- A minimum of an hour's drive away, no spare money, and most of our shopping is done at thrift stores. Besides, I hate shopping.
Elevators -- Virtually unknown in rural areas. I'm lucky to see the inside of an elevator twice a year.
Newspapers -- We don't subscribe to any.
Cell phones -- Even when I was in high school, I hated talking on the phone. Same now. I own a very basic cell phone model and have it on only when traveling. It's not a "smart" phone and even though it will take photos or allow texting, I don't have the faintest idea how to use those features. In short, I use my cell phone perhaps five or six times a month.
Dining out -- Rarely do it. Hate spending the money. Plus nice restaurants are an hour's drive away.
Television -- No reception.
Taxis -- I've been in a taxi once in my life, around 1984 or so.
Coffee -- I hate it. Can't get it down at all. I can't stand coffee ice cream, coffee candies, or any other coffee-flavored concoction. Yuck. (Tea is a different animal.)
Cursing -- I used to let an occasional four-letter word slip, but I've made a conscious effort to clean up my language in the last five years. I have kids, after all.
Chocolate -- Not my favorite flavor. Given a choice between chocolate cake and yellow cake, I'll take the yellow every time.
Multitasking -- I don't think my version of multitasking is the same as the author's.

I hope this doesn't imply that I'm flawless and without vices because that's FAR from true. It's just that my vices differ from the author's, in large part because our lifestyles are polar opposites. I don't care for chocolate but I love sweets (as my waistline will attest). We don't have television reception but I'm on the computer more than I should be.

So this got me thinking -- since rural people face different issues than urban folks, what are twelve vices we could give up over the course of a year?

Are malls dead?

The girls and I were in Spokane yesterday doing our usual "city day" errands. One particular errand took us near a mall. We had a little spare time, so on impulse I asked the girls if they wanted to walk around. Malls are far away from us and we seldom set foot inside one, so this was a rare treat.

But the inside startled us. It seemed barren, with empty storefronts everywhere. Keep in mind this was a Thursday afternoon, about 1 pm.

The mall was spacious and well-lit with two floors, but I'm estimating about half (or more) of the store fronts were empty. The food court, which should have been decently full of people since it was still lunch time, only had about three out of (perhaps) fifteen food vendors open. One or two tables had diners, that was it.

We passed some interesting displays, such as this "trashion" exhibit (fashions made of trash), some of which were very clever.

There were a few vibrant corners in some spots, but you'll notice shoppers are conspicuously absent.

And so much of the mall was dismally empty. At this point it seemed like a downward spiral with no shops to attract shoppers, and no shoppers to keep shops in business.

The interesting thing is this mall is located in an enormously crowded part of Spokane in what seems like a decent neighborhood. It has some large anchor stores -- Sears, Barnes & Noble, Macy's. Yet it's dying.

Oh, I forgot to add... we've been in this mall before. We pop in every couple of years. In prior times it was bustling, with full store fronts and lots of people.

It is just this mall, or is it malls in general? We don't go into enough different ones to know. Thoughts?

Confessions of a thriftaholic

Last week when I spoke to the English woman about the casting call for Blast Films, our discussion centered quite a bit on how so many rural people are generally thrifty, and how it helps to be immune from fashion if you're going to live in the country. I told her that we never, EVER recreationally shop. Ever. I also said that ALL of our clothing purchases, with the exception of sock and underwear, occur in thrift stores.

This concept seemed to boggle her. "Don't your daughters ever long for shopping experiences in new shops?" she asked. "Don't they ever want to buy a new pair of designer jeans?"

I laughed heartily at this concept. "My older daughter is our little fashionista," I told her. "She loves nice clothes. But we're so used to thrift store prices and the ability to buy anything we want for a fraction of the cost, that whenever we go into a retail store and look at their clothes, the kids come away with sticker shock."

You see, this woman was operating under the identical premise that so many people (especially women) have, to wit: shopping is fun.

Fortunately our girls got their shopping genes from me, and here's my take on the subject: I hate shopping.

I really do. I never long to waft through a mall, fingering garments, trying things on just for fun, blowing a wad of cash. I get bored just typing about it.

Have you ever read Confessions of a Shopoholic? It's a light-hearted amusing book, and it was successful enough that the author wrote a bunch of spin-offs (Shopoholic Takes Manhatten, Shopoholic Ties the Knot, etc.) One of the spinoffs was called Shopoholic and Sister, in which the main character (Becky) tries to forge a relationship with a newly-discovered half-sister named Jessica. The best bonding experience Becky can imagine is shopping together, so they go off for a day-long outing in stores. Trouble is, Jessica was raised to be thrifty and she finds shopping to be a total bore.

I enjoyed that book because I am Jessica.

Thankfully, so are my daughters. When I told Older Daughter about my conversation with this lady from London, about whether she ever longs for shopping experiences, Older Daughter had a good laugh. "I can blow a wad of cash at a thrift store and emerge with a mountain of clothes," she said, "versus a single pair of designer jeans bought new at a retail store."

Our favorite thrift store is Value Village, which has a wide selection of clothing, books, household items, kitchen items, etc. I estimate that 95% of our shopping is done at VV.

We were in Value Village this week, and Older Daughter found a skirt she particularly liked for $5. I'm guessing it would be in the realm of $50 or so in a retail establishment. As we paid for it, she exclaimed, "I just LOVE thrift stores!"

So no, I'd say she never longs for shopping experiences. (Except at thrift stores, of course.) We're at minimum an hour's drive from the nearest retail stores, so none of us can ever impulse-shop anyway.

Which, now that I think about it, may be one of the "keys" for people who live self-sufficient lives -- we're indifferent to fashion or other trendy issues and just prefer to live as frugally as possible, immune to the lures of advertising, cultural peer pressure, and trends.

Something to think about.