When I was younger, “Back to School Shopping” meant a casual trip to the local supermarket, buying biros, refill paper and begging for a new pair of nylon tights I was sure to rip three days into term. Now it seems “Back to School Shopping” has become a whole other beast, with adverts up and down the high street, selling us clothes, accessories, stationary and miscellaneous tech. The Apple Pencil will not save your grade, mesh ballet flats will leave your feet soaked from the Glasgow rain, and a Labubu probably won’t offer much comfort in your desolate student digs – so why are we buying this stuff?
“Back to School Shopping” has taken on the role of a personal indicator, it signifies who you are, what you have, what you believe. This is especially prevalent at university, where students clamour for a “Rebrand”. The sense of freshness September brings gives us a chance to write our essays on time, attend every lecture, and do the readings for every seminar. It’s only until Reading Week hits, that we have discarded our better selves, and with it the impulsively purchased consumables. “Back to School Shopping” is a two-headed beast; on one hand it encourages us to believe that what we have is not enough, whilst encouraging a dangerous lifestyle of overconsumption that is hurting our wallets and the planet.
Now more than ever, what we own is associated with who we are and what we think. Desperate to fit into these character boxes, we often try to change and conform to niche microlabels. The new term brings anxiety and increases our vulnerability to the power of advertising. The market works by creating fear of missing out on these items, and so when we click buy, it triggers our dopamine creating a sudden rush of happiness and fulfillment. This allows us to associate happiness with the ding of Apple Pay and continues the purchase cycle.
The adverts we see on billboards, the posts on our feeds, and the vlogs that preach iPad superiority are designed to trigger this system. It makes us crave the quick relief that can only happen with 20% off, Buy One get One free, and next day delivery. This is especially virulent in times of economic uncertainty, where we seek small luxuries to feel comfort – something known as the Lipstick Index. Clothing and gadgets give us a sense of worth and individuality in a time where grad-jobs and first houses are out of reach. We might be renting forever but at least we have nice shoes, right?
Whilst these campaigns make us both insecure and strapped for cash, the environmental effects are catastrophic. When we tire with our impulsive purchases, or in typical fast-fashion style, they break, we discard them far away from our glossy lifestyles. Though a fraction of our clothes ends up in a charity shop, most go straight to landfill. The world’s biggest landfill site is in Atacama, Chile – dubbed the “Great Fashion Garbage Patch”, and it receives 46 million tons of clothing annually.
Most of these dumping grounds are in South Asia or Africa, such as the 65 feet high pile on protected Ghanaian land. Would we so eagerly consume it if it was being dumped in our back yard? If the rolling hills of Loch Lomond gave way to a pile of Shein, H&M and Zara? Whilst microplastics leach from our clothes into the environment, our “Apple ecosystem” extracts rare raw materials and burns fossil fuels like a hungry monster. E-Waste similarly ends up in landfill, where it can join the Zara business-casual in leeching lead, lithium, and mercury into the soil. This hasn’t even mentioned the underpaid and unsafe working conditions our consumables demand, which is again, conveniently out of sight out of mind.
This isn’t to say I am a perfect consumer, scrolling Vinted has replaced my Reels addiction, I loved butter yellow, and I have coveted red gingham, however I am preaching mindfulness in what we consume. We must acknowledge how damaging “Back to School Shopping” is for both our psyche and our planet. Who you are should be based on yourself, not what you have. You do not need to be a clean girl, an eclectic grandpa, coquette or a football shirt collector. You do not need an Apple Pencil, a productivity planner, a North Face puffer or a pair of sambas. University essentials should instead include remembering your student card and a taste for cheap pints.
Leave a Reply