Cause and affect: learning that my philosophies don’t define me

After a year and a half of careful consideration over ever purchase, I feel its time to take stock and reassess my situation. So, am I pleased with my progress so far? Well, that’s a tough question. I have previously commented that I fear my ‘ethical’ mind set has shaped me into a organic eating, yoga practising guardian reader, the type that most of us love to hate, (by the way, I don’t do yoga, but have recently wondered if it might help my posture) and its probably my almost obsessive fascination with charity shops that keeps me from becoming one of ‘them’. You see, this ethical quest has almost redefined who I actually am. I’ve always been proud to be different, despised the kind of people who will only buy brand named food and turn their noses up at the bargain bin. Those M&S food shoppers who eat asparagus or actually know what those bizarre ingredients are in cookbooks have previously fuelled my deepset insecurities of inferiority and I’ll rather be a hoody drinking stella in the park on Friday night than become one of them. I love chocolate spread on white bread, always have done, always will do and no amount of encouragement is going to make me want to put pollen into my yogurt. Anyway, my point is (yes, there is a point), my point is that shopping ethically isn’t about becoming a middle class, pollen eating yoga instructor. It’s about thinking about consequences, thinking about how my money can affect other people and how my spending habits can do something other than line the pockets of the fat cats of the world.

The other day I found myself thinking that I needed to spend £30 on a new pair of shoes to go with a dress to wear to my friends wedding. Where this idea came from I don’t know, but it scared me. Under normal circumstances I would rather go barefoot than face the high street just to fit in at a social function. As the high street phobia kicked back in and I realised I really didn’t want to fight my way through the throngs just for a pair of sandals I discovered that my four year old sandals would go very nicely with the £3 dress I bought at the end of last summer. Job done. Perhaps it’s because I now know that I can pass for ‘normal’ in my charity shop clobber that I feel I can become part of the ‘normal society’, not that I’ve ever wanted to be part of that scene. I suppose even at my age it’s easy to get sucked into the lifestyles you see on TV and in magazines and feel you have to compete. It’s scary how fast that white picket fence can grow up around you and before you can say IKEA, you’re not you anymore. Lesson learnt; stay focused on the bigger picture and enjoy being a individual.

Redemption: Charity shop fashion is not too shabby chic

On the weekend I was at Radio one’s Big Weekend in Swindon and as usual, spent a large part of last week fretting over what to wear. In everyday life my charity shop wardrobe can manage but being surrounded by people in their finery (who are hoping to be on TV) really takes me out of my comfort zone. I finally settled on a fairly respectable ensemble put together from various charity shops topped off with a Marc Jacobs t-shirt I found in Oxfam. When a brunette girl asked me where I got my t-shirt from I proudly told her it was from a charity shop. That obviously wasn’t helpful for her as she wanted to find one for herself and she was rather stunned when I showed her the label! But for me, this was acceptance and I’m proud to be a charity shop fan.