Showing posts with label Bricks-and-mortar stores. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Bricks-and-mortar stores. Show all posts

1/30/14

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Store Loss and Disenfranchised Grief

Posted by Inspired at 3:59 PM No comments :

I stood with my head pressed against the glass. Behind it, a thoroughly empty shop, long and narrow. The bald fact of it: walls, carpet, back door. Everything else – the shelves, the posters, the old counter at the back with its pale pink curtain into the inner sanctum that held the DVDs – all gone. The closing down signs still mocking the windows, a picture of understatement.

How absurd, to get upset about a video store closing! How old was I? Well, it was early January, which is always a disorientating time for me. And this was a local video store, not a franchise, owned by a sweet family headed by a short, white-haired middle-aged woman who always treated me with kindness and courtesy. This family were already installed in the store when I started to use it after returning, ten years ago, to live in the nearby suburb where I grew up.

It was a damn good video store, with plenty of stock to choose from. It charged only $3 for new releases, obviously an attempt to compete with the DVD vending machines that had become a fixture at supermarkets in recent years.

It had no pretensions to being an arty place aimed at cinephiles – I used to think how much more it could do to capitalise on the hordes of students in the area – but the owner had realised, she told me once, that keeping a back catalogue of videos rather than selling most of them off was good for the business, tiding it over whenever the crop of new releases was particularly disappointing.

My angst came from several sources. I hadn’t had the chance to say goodbye and thanks for being real, and independent, and genuinely friendly. Mixed in with this was the frustration of human curiosity – I’d missed the inside story. I’ll never know whether the owner had simply had enough and was retiring with a nice little nest egg, or, much more likely, was a victim of the switch to vending machines along with the rise of Quickflix and internet streaming – and perhaps rising store rents.

But it wasn’t just the owner I’d lost the chance to say goodbye to. It was the shop itself, its familiar layout, the time I used to spend painstakingly choosing my five weeklys for only $6.50. I’ve used those DVD vending machines, but it’s just not the same. Going out to choose a video is still a treat for me, and having a machine dispensing it takes all the fun away.

The small losses of daily life

As we get older, familiar places seem to become more important. There is so much change, and yet another small adjustment can sometimes seem like a blow.

Gerontologist Professor Kenneth Doka has an expression for the sense of loss that we have trouble letting go of because our grief is not socially sanctioned – he calls it disenfranchised grieving.

Such losses are often large but they can also be small ones. Life is full of them – every new stage we enter results in the shedding of old routines, places and companions – but modern life changes so fast that we may be in a state of constant adjustment, never having the chance to find our feet until the next earth tremor of change.

Pic: Grove Arcade bookstore, by Joel Kramer
Shops are commercial ventures, but the ones we visit regularly become part of our psychic maps, our mental touchstones. I hadn’t expected to feel bereft when the Borders store at my local shopping mall closed. This occurred when the entire Australian arm of the business went into receivership in 2011. All over Melbourne Borders stores were holding closing down sales and I joined the swarms of bargain hunters combing the fast-emptying shelves for books going for a couple of dollars.

I wasn’t prepared for the sense of loss once the Chadstone Borders at closed. I knew that it was a heartless multinational, had read somewhere that workers in its US stores were so poorly paid they had to get second jobs to survive. Nevertheless there was something profoundly civilising about all those books in my local shopping mall. I’ve always fetishised books and it was the sheer number at the Borders store with its two floors that captivated me.

Still, losses have their consolations. About a year ago a new independent bookstore moved into Chadstone, with genre labels that look a bit home made, and a refusal to grant the kinds of massive discounts that stores like Borders and Dymocks have relied on. It’s a new branch of the independent chain Robinsons Books, and seems so far to be well patronised – long may it reign!

Have you ever experienced a sense of unexpected loss when a familiar store closed down?

Until next time!

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1/5/14

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Necessities or Luxuries: Which Do You Put First?

Posted by Inspired at 10:36 PM No comments :
Happy New Year! Now that the Christmas spendathon is over, and the January sales spendathon is in full swing, I’m in the process of dutifully parting with the unspecified sum of money my parentals always grace me with at Christmas in lieu of a present.

The difference is that this year I am not going to spend it on something big. In fact I’m in the process of buying those boring things that I usually put off buying because I am trying to save money, can’t be bothered searching, or have throughout the year prioritised frivolities and ‘extras’.

But the fact is, when I put my mind to it I love buying these necessities. It makes me feel as if I am looking after myself.

After a misspent (literally) youth of frivolity with money, I became a rabid stinge in my early thirties. Along with this came a willingness to get the basics paid for first – rent, bills etc – and to stock up on the dull necessities of life before venturing to buy anything frivolous. I adopted the kind of mentality that privileges having enough underwear in your drawers over having a new pair of tailored pants, a glamorous dress or Italian shoes.

It’s a sane way to live, but I think I overdid it for a while. For example, I used to spend a fortune on vitamins, and I’m not sure I needed all of those tablets rattling around in my insides.

In the last few years I’ve been rebelling against this tendency a bit, and buying a few frivolities ahead of necessities (although I will always be a stinge – most of my frivolities come from op shops). But when I received my Christmas money this year, I knew it was time to get back to basics. I’ve been ignoring some dull requirements for a few months now, and it was time to play catch up.

So here’s the list of basics I’ve either bought or am intending to buy:

Cruelty-free lipstick – it can be a hassle finding cruelty-free lipstick if you don’t want to buy online. I’ve discovered that three mainstream brands, Innoxa, Australis and Face of Australia, are cruelty-free (it’s sad that there are so few since many of the big brands started selling to China, which demands animal testing). These brands are available at some Priceline stores and Innoxa is also sold at Myers.

Neck support – for tele watching. Aesthetically unpleasing – downright daggy in fact – but very comfortable.

Lumbar roll – long overdue. I need support for my lower back while using the computer, watching tele, reading on the couch, etc, etc.

Neem oil – this seems to be the go-to oil for organic gardeners. Apparently it keeps away the little pests such as snails while not harming beneficial insects like butterflies and bees. I am also hoping it will deter (without actually poisoning) the possums that populate my garden and love eating my succulents.

Oversized hair rollers – these are perfect for getting my flyaway fringe under control – the standard size rollers don’t do the trick at all.

Big new diary – of course I would have bought this anyway, but I have bought one of those A4-size ones and it’s carbon neutral to boot!

New torch – I dropped and broke the last one during the traumatic period a few weeks before Christmas when I went for three days without electricity while some of the wiring at my place was being fixed. It was a nightmare time and dropping the torch didn’t exactly help matters.

Cute shower cap – for the bath, not the shower. (Does anyone wear a shower cap in the shower anymore?) Must have more baths this year.

New hessian bag – for library books and the beach. Hessian is incredible, a light material that holds heavy weights and lasts for years. My last hessian bag, 15 years old at least, finally bit the dust in 2013, so it’s time for another.

New saucepan – boring but necessary.

Hair cut – I would have had this done anyway, but may as well use the Christmas money for it!

Calendar – I always buy these after 1 January to save money, and this year will be no exception.

Parasol – currently I use my boring navy blue umbrella as a parasol on those boiling hot days when a hat just isn’t enough. I am looking for a cute parasol that will do the job with a bit more style.

That's enough necessities for now. Even when I'm buying necessities I still use my intuition, which makes it more likely that the things I buy are right for me.

And I did manage to also buy a half-price, oversized wool top at the Salvos in Malvern, certainly not a necessity for this time of year but a bargain too good to pass up.

Do you normally skimp on necessities but buy luxuries instead, or do the opposite? How do you feel when you put luxuries first, and how do you feel when you put necessities first?


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8/26/13

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Uniquely Melbourne: Alternative St Kilda

Posted by Inspired at 2:58 PM 2 comments :

Ah, St Kilda - surely the place in Melbourne with the richest combination of social ingredients. Glorious, diverse, artistic and a little bit seedy, Melbourne's young bohemians started flocking to St Kilda and its bay beach after the Eastern Europeans who settled there after the war gave the suburb its alternative cache.

Traditional Jewish food culture flourished in the delis and Hungarian restaurants of Acland Street, musicians played at the Espy, penniless artists rented out crumbling old-style apartments for a song, the windows of the cake shops became a drawcard for tourists and the Kooglhoupf made its appearance on Melbourne's Sunday lunch tables.

St Kilda's popularity has changed the suburb, which is much more upmarket these days. But when I went in search of its soul recently I didn't have to go far. There's plenty of life left in St Kilda, as these small cafes and retailers attest. Come with me on a journey to the soul of St Kilda. (As you can see, my photography skills are still 'evolving'.)

Before we hit the shops, let's stop at a hidden oasis south of Acland Street, the Blessington Gardens. I once lived opposite them, and they weren't as superbly maintained then as they are today. There are several discrete sections - a rose garden, an area of native Australian plants, a rotunda for weddings, and a lake with white ducks. Here's a pleasing vista.


Now we're ready to hit the road. Our journey starts at a charming group of cute little cafes bunched together in Blessington Street. Kotch Lane is arguably the sweetest of these.


The cafe has some lovely personal touches.




Next door is the famous Lentil as Anything with its 'pay as you feel' philosophy. There are no prices on the menu - instead you decide how much the meal is worth. There are now three Lentil as Anything restaurants in Melbourne, and St Kilda was the first. The 'pay as you feel' model has since been adopted internationally.


Below is a shot of the restaurant's interior.


It's now time to cross Barkly Street, lured by this charming clothes store, dot & herbey, on the corner of Barkly and Blessington.


dot & herbey is an independent Australian label, with all clothes manufactured in Australia.


Crossing to the corner of Acland and Barkly streets, in need of refreshment, we find Leroy Espresso Bar, which takes its coffee very seriously. Manager Sam obliged with a pic:


Striking exposed brick walls make the interior of this cafe distinctive, giving it a warehouse feel.


Here's the cute tiled exterior.


Wandering in a north-westerly direction up Acland Street, we hit the group of cake shops that first made the street famous. One of these is Monarch Cakes, which has apparently been recommended by Tourism Australia as one of the top 25 places to visit in Australia. This cute window display caught my eye.


This store interior definitely retains the feel of 'old St Kilda'.


Crossing the street, we come to the St Kilda RSL on the corner of Albert Street, where we find the Southside Handmade and Vintage Market. This is held on the last Saturday of each month (except September and December) on the first floor of the RSL, a charming art deco building. It's the perfect setting for the market, which is full of lovingly crafted clothes, soft furnishings, jewellery, knick-knacks and vintage fashion. There's even a cafe at the back.



Wendy Scully's wonderful hats, Chapeaux by Wendy, caught my eye - the hats are all handcrafted original designs, and there are plenty of summery designs as well as the winter ones shown here.


We then head off to the Galleon, a long-established cafe around the corner from Acland Street, in Carlisle Street. I used to come here in the late eighties - my favourite dish was the spanikopita, which was about four bucks! The Galleon is still a retro oasis, much-loved by the locals; the ones there on Saturday looked as if they had settled in for a good few hours.


The bold use of colour gives a funky feel to the place.


Soon after this point in our travels we meet Rebecca Kennedy, a creative fashion stylist known as the 'style guru' who lives in the area. (I'd never met Rebecca but thought she looked amazing and had to stop and ask for her photo. As I had unintentionally added an arty setting on my camera, the pic doesn't do justice to her great use of colour but it shows her amazing style, which I'd describe as 'street glamour'.)


It's time to leave Acland Street and head off down Barkly to the corner where Inkerman Road becomes Grey Street. This is a groovy corner indeed and the hilly topography combines with the terraced shop fronts to create a village-meets-inner-urban-cool atmosphere. Scout House is a charming homewares store in Grey Street that has  a carefully curated collection combining the old and new.


Here's part of the store interior:


Next door is Mollisons, a contemporary homewares store with a shabby chic feel. I fell in love with this charming group of knitted light shades in the window.


So ends our visit today, but I've really only scratched the surface of the soul of St Kilda. There's still a lot to discover in this town.

BTW, if you're in Melbourne, the StripFest festival, in Acland Street and surrounds, runs until 30 August.

Until next time!

If you enjoyed this blog entry, you might also like Uniquely Melbourne: Alternative Carlton.

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8/4/13

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Uniquely Melbourne: Alternative Carlton

Posted by Inspired at 6:43 PM No comments :
Carlton is one of Melbourne's most treasured suburbs. On the fringe of the CBD, it is the city's Italian quarter but is so much more than that. Settled by the Jewish community in the early twentieth century, discovered by Melbourne's bohemians and uni students in the sixties and seventies and treasured by the masses for his pizza, gelato and macchiato, the suburb's foodie headquarters is Lygon Street.

While Carlton is long gentrified, it continues to provide rich atmosphere, authentic Italian fare and shades of its older, scruffier self.

The council has ensured that Lygon street retains its essential character and the high-rise public housing, students from nearby Melbourne University and strong Italian presence keep the street buzzy and lively. The Nova Cinema in the plaza and the iconic Readings bookstore ensure a constant stream of hipsters and progressives.

So, do Carlton and more specifically Lygon Street retain some of the excitement of the sixties, seventies and eighties? The answer is yes, but you have to look for it. I went in search of old Carlton and unfortunately the battery of my camera died, while some of my photography efforts veered towards the abstract! Where was my beginners' luck when I really needed it?

But fear not, your intrepid reporter has managed to supplement her own pics with those provided by kind vendors.

And I promise to return and take some photos of the lovely architectural details that adorn the stores of Lygon and surrounding streets.


First stop: the famous Tiamo at 303 Lygon Street, a cafe and restaurant that has been providing authentic Italian fare and oozing bohemian credibility since the year dot. I used to come here for mushroom tagliatelle as an undergrad at Melbourne uni and the decor is still reassuringly the same.


On my latest visit I found sitting at the front counter the distinguished gent above. He is Bibi Succi, the owner of Tiamo, which he purchased in 1977 when Carlton was the centre of Melbourne's counterculture. He now co-owns the cafe with Giancarlo Massini, below. Giancarlo is pictured in Tiamo 2, Tiamo's sister restaurant next door, with Grace Cacopardo (left) and his niece Teresa Tron, who conduct cooking and serving duties.


This is Tiamo's interior, complete with flyers and posters on the wall and the timeless tables and chairs that I remember from uni days. My pic's not the best, but it has an artistic blurriness:


This is a clearer view of the interior:


Next door to Tiamo 2 is Readings bookstore, a Carlton icon. I still remember the original, much smaller store, which was over the road at 366 Lygon Street. On Sunday afternoons Readings is a place to linger, browse and jostle the many customers soaking up the atmosphere. Nowadays Readings also has stores in St Kilda, Malvern, Hawthorn, the State Library and the Brain Centre.

On 10 August (this Saturday), Readings is celebrating National Bookshop Day, with all-day events at the Carlton, St Kilda, Malvern and Hawthorn stores. The store has a long tradition of philanthropy, with 10 per cent of profits going to the Readings Foundation each year, and crucial funds are also raised from individual donations by Readings customers. The Foundation supports initiatives that further the development of literacy, community work and the arts.

Photo: David Collopy
Just up the road, tucked away in a hallway at the end of Jimmy Watson's pub on Lygon Street, is Hobo clothing. As owner Anna speculates, this may be the smallest store in Australia and is a fantastic use of space. Hobo sells an eclectic combination of vintage and secondhand designer gear. The store has been operating in Hawthorn for 15 years and this new branch brings a touch of modern bohemia to Carlton.


Not far away, on the corner of Drummond and Elgin streets, is Cafe Lua. It's a relaxed hangout with the retro chrome-and-vinyl kitchen chairs and tables so beloved of alternative types since the early eighties. It's a light-filled place with a laidback feel.


Behind these coffee sippers at Lua is the exterior of Lygon Court, the site of the old Pram Factory, which housed a bohemian theatre troupe in the seventies:


On the other side of the road, at 194 Elgin Street, we find Make, which sells objects from around the globe that combine strong design with aesthetic appeal, many with green credentials. The light-filled showrooms beautifully showcase the design objects:




Further east, at 134-136 Elgin Street, is Yooralla op shop, a Carlton institution. Selling a range of pre-loved clothing, books, household goods, jewellery and other items, its profits fund Yooralla's work supporting people with disability. The shop also provides vital employment training for people with disability.



Retracing our steps down Lygon Street towards the city, we find the treasure trove of the Poppy Shop at 283 Lygon Street. It's a reminder of the variety of retail stores that were available before Melbourne store rents skyrocketed.


This small store is packed with imaginative toys, puzzles and games from around the world. Owner Pat Knox, who has been with the store since 1967, once sold secondhand furniture but changed the store's direction to gifts in 1972. You won't find chain store toys here, but diverse, original items like felt bags from Tibetan refugees, fabric squares from Japan, Kenyan knitted animals, puzzles from Belgium, dolls from Spain, and Russian babushkas.

Continuing down Lygon Street towards the city, we come to Borsari Cycles at 193 Lygon, another Carlton institution.

Nino 'Cavalier' Borsari had already triumphed over severe childhood poverty to become Italy's top professional cyclist and an Olympic gold medal winner before opening up his first bike shop on the corner of Lygon and Grattan streets in 1941. As well as doing cycle repairs, Nino operated as a secondhand dealer. The Borsari name can still be seen on this corner:


His business soon expanded and in 1961 it moved three doors down, to its present location. Borsari has sold thousands of bikes over the years and the current owner, Fabian, provides cycling advice to many satisfied customers.



That ends our visit today, but I will be back, camera in hand, to snap the historic architecture and street scenes of this inner city treasure trove.

Until next time!



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3/11/12

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Furni-phobia: The Fear of Buying Big-Ticket Items

Posted by Inspired at 12:16 PM No comments :

This piece was first written in 2009, for an earlier blog of mine. I thought it would be good to give it another airing on the Inspired Shopper blog because it reflects on a shopping dilemma that I deal with to this very day!

I have just bought a new, LCD, digital, HD (not 'complete' HD – there aren't enough pixels) flat-screen TV and had it installed using the combined efforts of the nice aerial man and a long-suffering friend of mine who is electronically advantaged. And I feel slightly traumatised.

I knew this feeling was coming and I was prepared. Every time I acquire an item that significantly alters my domestic environment, such as a new, expensive-ish piece of furniture or anything in the way of brown-, white- or blackgoods, I go through a 'trial period' where I am convinced I have made a huge mistake and should just go back to frittering away my money on clothes.

I know where and how this started. For many years I just didn't know how to shop. I rarely had enough money to buy new household items so acquired my parents' or friends' cast-off fridges, crappy vacuum cleaners and so on. When I was forced to buy something new I just went for the bottom-of-the-range model, and I rarely shopped around for the best price.

Then I started to earn a bit of money. Somehow I found myself with a luxurious wool underlay and top-of-the-range, down-filled doona that conspired to overheat and dry out my entire body so I'd wake at 3 in the morning feeling like a piece of dehydrated meat and screaming for water (that was 2002 and I still haven't got around to selling that underlay on eBay).

My next try was a heater and for this adventure I turned into Goldilocks, returning the first heater because it was too cold and the second because it was too powerful, then skulking to another shop to buy a heater that was 'just right'.

An education in shopping

So I kind of taught myself to shop. I'd been in a 12-step program and I combined the 'letting go' techniques I'd learned there with a new-agey concept of intuition that worked well in other aspects of my life. And I did get better at shopping, I really did. But it took ages and much trial and error. To this day, buying anything significant involves much research, browsing and soul-searching until the heart-wrenching decision is made and I reluctantly hand over my debit card.

And then guess what happens? I convince myself that in fact, despite my gut feeling reassuring me otherwise, I have yet again stuffed up, under-researched, not done enough internet searching, not been to the right shop – what was possessing me that I didn't go there, what was I thinking?

I shouldn't be too hard on myself. The fact is, when shopping for a big-ticket item I'm caught between two competing needs – I can't afford to buy anything approaching the luxury model, but the bloody thing has to last for years. I guess an easy way of expressing this is that I'm looking for value for money. I'm an expert bargainer, and have perfected the down to earth, look-em-in-the-eye 'What's your best price?' once I've made up my mind.

Buying a new TV hasn't been my only risky venture of late. The familiar adaptation process had occurred already, soon after my brand new mattress arrived a few weeks earlier. (Allow two to three weeks for delivery because of Christmas/New Year? No problem. I could wait. It was going to be a big adjustment.) When it finally arrived it looked beautiful, so tall and imposing with its luxurious latex pillowtop ('You have to get a pillowtop', my sister had said, 'it feels like you're sleeping on a cloud').

I had been back to the same chain store again and again, going to different branches so I could pretend I was a new customer and spending 10-minute stretches lying back on the mattress I'd provisionally chosen – sales assistants advise that you have to lie there for ages before you get any idea of what a mattress feels like, because at first it feels great just to be lying down.

(This was a horrible experience. The recession had just started and there was never anyone else in the stores, even on Saturday mornings. Just acres and acres of inviting beds. Sometimes I walked into stores and went straight to the beds and lay down on one of them and then the sales assistant would sidle up and say something like 'Looking for a mattress are you?' and it would all feel way too intimate.)

Anyway, once the mattress had taken over my undersized bedroom I quickly convinced myself that it had been a huge mistake. For a start it was almost impossible to make my bed. My pillowtop is so heavy you can't really hold it up to tuck the sheets underneath, except at the corners. And because it is so tall, it obscures the deco Danish bedhead I'd bought for a song on eBay only six or so months before. Then of course I couldn't sleep because the mattress was – well it was too comfortable! It felt too indulgent, too foreign.

And one morning, after a day of sitting, both on public transport and at a theatre, I woke with my upper back aching, having spent too long on my back in the hollow that the latex had soon developed. I rushed to the internet to discover the dreadful truth. Sure enough, latex pillowtops were notorious for sinking in the middle and creating bad backs! That was it, I was going to return the bed before it ruined my spine beyond all repair. Why, oh why hadn't I gone to Beds for Backs? No wonder no one was in those conventional mattress stores – they were all at Beds for Backs, looking after their spines!

But still my gut feeling said, don't worry, it's fine. You did make the right choice.

A similar feeling assailed me last night about the new television, after my electronics engineer friend had gone home. He'd adjusted the picture so that the golf no longer looked glittery and I could no longer reassure myself that I had indeed made a terrible mistake and would have to return this piece of crap forthwith or sell it to my sister. So the telly was just too right. The screen was too big, the experience too overwhelming after watching a tiny little toy box with a 'bunny ears' aerial for almost 20 years. This monster would swallow me up and turn me into a televidiot.

And then after watching a rock show I never normally bother with I drifted exhausted to bed, and my mattress, my mattress, well it just felt so comfortable, so comforting – so – right.

Until next time!
If you enjoyed this blog entry, you might also like Saving and Spending: Confessions of a Chronic Underspender and Steps to Take Before You Buy a Big-Ticket Item.

                                         
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12/25/11

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Keep Calm and Carry Water: Great Tips for Coping with the Boxing Day Sales

Posted by Inspired at 3:46 AM No comments :

Hauling yourself out of bed at some ungodly hour after the festivities of Christmas just to buy even more consumer goods is not everyone’s idea of shopping savvy. But despite the hype around Boxing Day sales, they can be worth  the effort, especially if there are things you need and you’ve planned ahead. If you decide to join the craziness, the tips below will keep you focused and ensure you don't come home with ten bottles of Old Spice aftershave past their used-by-date, a whopping headache and nothing else. 

* Prepare in advance a list of items you’ll be searching for on Boxing Day. Stake out stores that you think will discount those items on Boxing Day and use this information to help you decide which shops to go to. You don't have to buy everything on the list: it's just a guide to give some structure to your shopping.

* Map your planned journey for maximum efficiency. Be realistic about how much energy you’ll have after Christmas. At the same time be prepared to deviate from your plan if your energy takes you somewhere unexpected.

* Dress for shopping success! Choose sensible clothes and comfortable shoes and get them ready the night before. 

* Take advantage of one-day discounts. If you’re running out of everyday items like moisturiser or shampoo, hold off on buying them until Boxing Day and take advantage of one-day discounts that some stores offer on every item in the store.

* Keep your spending under control. Set a limit on the amount you will allow yourself to spend on the day. Do this mindfully and ensure the amount is realistic and affordable.

* Get your supplies ready in advance! Bring plastic or canvas bags. To stay hydrated, bring or buy a bottle of water and drink it while you’re queuing. Bring a healthy snack like nuts or raisins. (Alternatively, plan a relaxing meal or drink break.) If you're shopping alone, bring something to read while you're queuing up at the check-out.

* Before you go, take note of advertisements for Boxing Day sales. If you’re planning to buy a furniture item or appliance, eg a new dining setting or home theatre system, do your research thoroughly beforehand so you can rush in and rush out again with your Boxing Day bargain. If you’ve identified the exact item you want to buy but you’re not sure if it will be on sale on Boxing Day, use a smartphone to check prices, or ring around the stores on the day. This is the kind of situation where a smartphone really comes in handy – instead of the phone ‘telling’ you what to buy, you’re using it to obtain what you’ve already decided you want.

* When you hit your favourite store, take a deep breath. Use the experience as an exercise in following your energy rather than a do-or-die attempt to get everything you need. Picture a white light shining in your abdomen, and let the light guide you to where you need to go.

* If you have a smartphone, remember you're in control. Retailers will be trying to lure you into their stores with special offers. Use your intuition to decide which ones, if any, you respond to.

* Don't assume you have to buy something just because it's ridiculously cheap. Be really careful about taking advantage of those megabargains stores use to lure the early birds in. Just say you want to buy a new microwave oven and the store is selling them for $40. Have you done some research? Is this the microwave oven you really want? Will it do all the things you want it to do, and do you truly believe it's the right model for you? If not, you may be wasting your money.

* Don't be taken in by the shopping 'shoulds'. Your rational mind is very important in making the decision whether or not to buy, but it can't do the job on its own. Just say you've decided to buy one of those nifty mini-chainsaws because you want to start keeping the trees in your garden neatly pruned. You find a great model that's 35 per cent off, and you can't see any reason not to buy it. You have a niggling feeling that you shouldn't buy the chainsaw, but you ignore it, and bring one home from the sales. Two months later you get a job offer in another state and move into an apartment without a garden. If you can learn to listen to your gut feeling, you can work out when you're buying something just because of the shopping 'shoulds' - and perhaps decide not to buy at all.

* Don't give in to panic. You will probably feel a strong fear of missing out just because so many other shoppers will be desperate to get their hands on anything that looks cheap. Let yourself experience these feelings but try not to act on them, as this will actually reduce your chances of getting what you want and need. The world won't end if you don't buy a handbag at 50 per cent off. I know it feels like it will, but that's just because your mirror neurons are on overdrive and your dopamine levels are soaring. You can make a decision based on what you really need, you just have to listen. Act as if you know you’ll get what you need and you’ll be more likely to. 

* Think of finding a genuine bargain as a bonus, not a right or a necessity. Remind yourself that many people don’t even bother with Boxing Day sales, waiting till a few days after Christmas before they check out the bargains. The point is not to grab every single item you might possibly need, or to compete with other shoppers, but to pick up a few really useful items if they come your way.

* Don’t follow the crowd – they’re not always right. Just because a store is packed with frenzied shoppers doesn’t mean the best bargains reside within its walls. Go where your energy guides you – you may find yourself in a nearly deserted store where the very item you need is waiting for you. On one Boxing Day outing I found myself in one of the larger clothing chains in the centre of a mob of frenzied shoppers who had poured in as soon as the doors opened. A quick look around confirmed there was nothing I wanted, and I left with hardly a twinge of regret. A bit earlier I'd found myself in a near-empty boutique, and homed in on a $20 pair of black capri pants that I was still wearing last summer.

* Be prepared to queue at the checkouts. Use the time you spend queuing to practise patience and mindfulness, and, as I said earlier, bring something to read. One Boxing Day I found a fantastic pair of good quality sunglasses at 40 per cent off. I had to wait about 25 minutes to get served and almost gave up, thinking of all the bargains I was missing out on. I got more than enough wear from those sunglasses to justify the wait.

* Practice 'letting go' even if you're in a hurry. If there's something you think you want, put it back on the shelf and start to walk away, and check out how your gut feeling responds. Really try to give up the item while you're doing this. If it's a large item, simply walk away. Now monitor how you're feeling. Do you forget the item right away or does your gut tell you to go back? Trust your intuition to let you know if you really need the item.

Until next time!
 If you enjoyed this blog entry, you might also like A Free 'Shopping App' to Guide You Through the Christmas Maze.
                                                                                                                                                                 
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