Greenitforward’s Weblog

I’ve been thinking about stuff lately. I mean, Stuff. My possessions. Where they come from, how I use them, where they go when I’m done. In December, a colleague passed along a link that slammed on my brakes: http://www.storyofstuff.com/. The messenger’s tone sometimes bugged, but the message got through big time.

My stuff demands energy. I have to negotiate my stuff when I get home: groceries, furniture, mail, clothes, appliances. I manage my stuff, or work around it. I have to keep it clean and organized. I have to shift stuff around when I’m looking for a particular item of stuff. Sometimes these labors are worth the trouble, when the stuff is especially useful: A table, an iPod, my slippers, a spoon. Chicken from Pio Pio.

But stuff also takes energy to manufacture, distribute, purchase, take home, de-package, and dispose of when it’s used up. This associated energy lends a paper cup or a freezer bag heavier implications—and literal weight, in a landfill. Stuff becomes a classic First-World Problem.

So, I’ve slowly been changing my relationship with stuff. Besides hauling groceries home in reusable bags, I’m using less disposable…everything. But on a fundamental level, I’ve stopped buying so much. It’s hard, because stuff is cheap. In 2008, it has never been cheaper to have tons of stuff. Even people on very tight budgets seem to have a lot of stuff.

Accumulating stuff feels like feathering a nest. (With global warming, maybe I don’t need so much insulation.) It’s also an exercise of power. When life seems chaotic and I don’t feel I have control, leveraging that spending power can offer momentary relief. Other forces drive me to get stuff: advertising, cultural trends, boredom.

But I believe that buying less stuff is the best thing I can do for the planet right now, even better than recycling. The former begets the latter, when paring down one’s purchases. But there’s a personal incentive: Having less stuff also unclutters my mind and frees my hands and resources for other pursuits. These benefits compel me the most.

When my Costco membership expired last year, I didn’t renew it. Other than their dog food, I don’t miss it. The savings on the kibble nearly paid for the yearly membership. But I bought a lot of other stuff at Costco. Stuff I didn’t know I needed until I saw it. As I saved money, I spent a lot more, on extra stuff.

Now, if I really need stuff, I try to buy it at a market or local store or order it online. I make fewer impulse purchases because “the stuff was such a great deal.” I allocate less real estate to storing stuff. My household generates less waste. I still like to look. But acquisition has consequences I didn’t notice before, and I tally them before I buy. Now, if I really want a larger box-grater, I wait for a tag sale. In fact, I see all the merchandise at Costco (and Pottery Barn and Bed, Bath & Beyond) as Future Tag-Sale Items that will soon be available at deep discount.

If I need them at all.

Which brings me to a point for another post: I know I’m not alone in using less. How do advertisers reconcile a trend that’s a conflict of interest? How do we make money on buying less? I have some ideas, but would love to hear others.

Helen Perri