Everyone I know (and even people I only claim to know via IG stalking) is posting about Black Friday sales, trying to capitalize on the affiliate linking game and if I had more time coupled with will to live, I, too, would have proffered my readers a curated shopping list of all my favourite sales today. Instead, I’m selfishly oscillating back and forth between a deeply discounted, eligible for Ebates cash back, J.Crew scoop back bathing suit and a regular price – in US dollars – you pay the levies, you pay the duty, you pay the taxes and importing fees; last time I did it, it was an extra $40 to enter the country, no sales ever, Triangl bikini.
Two things I know: I’m not too crazy about the J.Crew scoop back colour (peacock blue) and the Triangl bikini (shipping from Hong Kong) won’t arrive in time for either of my upcoming beach vacations. What’s a girl to do? Close the browser, that’s what, and reflect on my life decisions with a heavy heart.
Ok, I lied. The J.Crew browser is still open.
But just because the whole world is online shopping right now for deals doesn’t mean I have to somehow conjure up a need, when in reality I have none, just so I can participate in the hullabaloo. Sales are the most psychologically fucked up fuckeries ever – there’s no telling what you’ll convince yourself you need just to get that sweet sensation of not paying full price. How many things have you bought on sale, just because they were on sale, and maybe wore once or twice, if at all? In fact, you might as well just take the sale price and assign a value exchange to the feeling of getting something on sale. A pink and ice cream cone printed onesie is on sale at H&M for twelve dollars from twenty. Forget the pyjama and ask yourself: is the thrill of the deal worth the eight dollars? If so, please proceed to the checkout.
So for the J.Crew bathing suit, I’m saving about twenty bucks when you add tax and shipping. Is the thrill worth it? I’m undecided.
On the other hand, I could just buy the Triangl bikini I really want and pay full price (and then some) for it. However logical that may be, it somehow feels absolutely counterintuitive to be paying full price for anything this weekend. Why buy the bikini I want and need when I can get an additional 50% off a pair of reindeer slippers at Forever 21? You see, it’s all screwedily-dooed.
The best way to beat Black Friday in the butt is to buy something you’ve been saving up for – and hope there’s a promo code at checkout. Most retailers (except for Sephora and Triangl, the two things I actually kinda need) are offering 30-70% off all merchandise. And I’m assuming Cyber Monday might be even more cray. So, let’s say you’ve been meaning to buy a Soda Stream or Kate Spade stationary, chances are both will be on sale somewhere today. (Walmart and Indigo). But if you’re just going to browse through a hundred shopping lists and websites to hunt down a deal for something you’re going to spend twenty minutes convincing yourself you really really need and a lifetime regretting, I might suggest you take a pause for the cause, go grab a coffee or something, and reconsider.
If anyone wants to meet at Starbucks on University and Adelaide, I’ll be there in 15 minutes. No laptops or illogical arguments allowed.