Want to know something shocking?
I buy all of my clothes at Kmart. Once you’ve picked your jaw up off the floor and had painful reconstructive surgery to get your bones back into position let me explain my motivation here.
Have you ever actually thought about the quality of the clothes you wear and how often you wear what you own? I can tell you, I cycle my clothes normally one day a week. As in I wear a certain combination of clothes one day a week then the next day is another combination and so on until laundry day where I am left with Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles pyjamas to go shopping in. I bought a polo shirt from Kmart for $15 and it’s a nice shirt. How often do you wear that nice Ralph Lauren polo shirt that cost you $98 that you bought on a whim with your tax refund? Probably never because it cost you $98.
So sure, my clothes are cheap, but I get more value out of them than you will ever get out of that ludicrously priced polo shirt that would pay several bills and leave me with change to pay two hobos to headbutt each other.
Did you know that that polo shirt I used as an example from Ralph Lauren and my Kmart polo actually have something in common? I mean, apart from being a shirt? They are both made in Bangladesh. All of that jargon that they throw into the description really doesn’t mean anything. How often do you walk around bragging about the cotton content of your shirts? If you did that people would stuff chilli peppers into your eyes until you fell down into the fetal position screaming about how Pima cotton is superior to regular cotton. It’s like when a candy bar advertises it uses brown sugar instead of refined sugar. Who gives a shit? You just want to eat that candy bar.
The point I am trying to make is that no matter how exclusive you think you are, how well off you want to project yourself or how ashamed you want people to feel about shopping at Kmart and Target all you’re doing is affirming that you’re dumb enough to fall for marketing tricks. You’re a slave. We’re all under the thumb of capitalism, it’s part and parcel of living in this world. It’s miserable, but that’s a story for another day.
Back to the fact that you’re a slave. Do you actually think that people are impressed by your rolex or your 2017 concept car that you bought from some eccentric billionaire living in a bunker in Sweden with jars full of toenails? No one cares enough about you to give a shit about what you have and generally what you do.
“But…but, I’m worth a million dollars!” You shriek over the thumping bass of your obnoxious euro beat screeching out of your thousands of dollars worth of Bang and Olufsen crap boxes. “I’m worth more so you should be impressed!” Great, you own money. How does knowing that enrich my life at all? How does you wearing Ralph Lauren shirts make me a better person? You are trained to believe that the more you spend on something, the more people will notice you and flock to you. It’s a common tactic used by people with no personalities to try to attract other people who are so vaccuous they are a walking singularity of pure ignorance.
So you’re a slave who exists only to line the pockets of filthy rich people who view you as nothing more than a pay cheque. Not some loyal devotee of the brand that they would bend over backwards for. They wouldn’t piss on you if you were on fire.
So how does my shopping at Kmart make me less of a slave than these people? Because I am making the choice to buy the same thing they are, just at such a drastically reduced price. If I have to play this capitalist game I want to do it in a way that minimises the profits of these bloated ticks as much as possible. It’s the same shirt, made in the same place and probably the same factory just I’m not paying $98 for it. You’d probably call it cheap and that I don’t have any standards. I would argue that you simply took the wrong pill and ended up in a fantasy world where you believe people actually give a shit about the exact cotton content of your t-shirt.