Category Archive

I’m just about to celebrate 20 weeks of Subverting Overconsumption, bringing me well over a third of the way through my project of buying nothing new for a year. Unfortunatey I seem to have hit a bumpy patch on the road, and though there’s not much to do but keep going, I’m not feeling all that happy about it.

It’s like this interminable Canadian prairie winter: March 1st hits, and what started as just a few months of cold weather suddenly turns unbearable. The thought of enduring one more night of freezing feet or one more wind-bitten walk to work is just too much to handle.

Subverting Overconsumption is feeling similar. It’s not that what I’ve set out to do is that hard - I’ve stuck to my plan, and the result has been a significant increase in my awareness of what I consume, how and why. But at the moment I seem to have hit a wall where everything about it just feels uninspired and irritating.

Case in point: when I moved out of my old place I had to leave the left-shooting house hockey stick behind. Now I’m without, so I’ve tried the regular stuff: posting it to my Wish List and to Freecycle, visiting the local used sports equipment store, etc. But to no avail. No stick wants to find me.

When I had to endure a trip to Canadian Tire to help a friend pick out her own shiny new stick, I couldn’t help wondering what the purpose of me not buying a stick actually is. I mean, my rationale is still rational: though I consume plenty, I like that new goods aren’t being manufactured just for me when there is more than enough perfectly good stuff already in existence to reuse. But the sound of my voice explaining to friends that I can’t come out to play for lack of stick is increasingly grating, and in the meantime I’m getting less exercise, breathing less fresh air, and having less fun for my trouble.

I guess I’m in the whiny phase of Subverting Overconsumption. It’ll probably pass. I mean, I’m certainly not bored with life…there are a million more radical things I want to do as a result of starting by buying nothing new. Maybe I’m just at the part where I realize that what I’ve committed to isn’t enough, but what I think I might want to commit to next is too scary to say out loud. For now I just want a fricking hockey stick.

Sticklessly yours, n

Tonight I went to hear the mythical David Suzuki speak at the University of Regina. It was the best live talk I’ve ever been too. Hands down. That man has so much cred that he maintains absolute legitimacy even while hollering into the microphone like a raving lunatic. It was seriously excellent. For some reason I thought powerful oration was a lost art, but clearly I was wrong.

He’s heading west and has a number of stops left to go, so if he hasn’t already passed through your town yet, please try to check him out. Find the sched here. ‘Cause we all need more heroes, right?

xo n

I’ve been putting off this confession for over a week: I had a momentary (and very lame) lapse in consumer judgment, and participated in buying something totally off limits to Subverting Overconsumption. It may have been the least romantic and most incomprehensible way to fall off the wagon, so I feel a like a bit of a jackass. But it’s a good reminder about how easy it is to get careless, so here goes:

It was my Grandma’s birthday 83rd birthday last week, and my uncle and I drove out of town to visit her for the day. I procrastinated dealing with her birthday all week, stayed out too late on Friday night, woke up the next morning and found myself in Safeway with my uncle sharing the cost of a potted flowering plant and a shiny Happy Birthday helium balloon.

Now, the flowers I managed to justify to myself (if only because they don’t fall under any clear guideline for Subverting Overconsumption). But a festively garish themed helium balloon? It’s never even crossed my mind to buy such a thing for anyone ever in my entire life! Why now? For what purpose? Did I lose all reason and consciousness and sense of self to boot?

I have no explanation. It’s completely incomprehensible to me. I just feel confused and dumb. Not like it’s the end of the world or the project or anything…just like it was really weird.

I’ve thought about it some, and there seems to be something about giving gifts in the context of this project that makes me profoundly uncomfortable. At Christmas I struggled with a similar anxiety around how to express my love/appreciation/affection to people through giving them shit. I felt insecure that if I didn’t buy stuff for people they wouldn’t think I was giving enough, or I felt reluctant to put a ton of time into homemade effort for people that might just not appreciate it. I felt like it would have been safer and easier to drop money on something material and meaningless than to pour blood, sweat and tears into something meaningful only to risk having it fall flat. In this case, it was much easier to lull myself into going along with buying my grandmother some impersonal crappy object that it was to admit that I don’t know her well enough to trust myself to do something for her that she would really value.

It’s disappointing, but all there is to do is get up, dust myself off, flag “gifts” as something now officially needing extra attention as part of Subverting Overconsumption, and move forward.

xo n

Ok, maybe it’s because it’s been a really, really long couple of weeks, but I’m having trouble suppressing my irritation. So here we go:

Yesterday I carelessly posted a call to “action” involving a coordinated turning off of lights and electrical appliances around the world to make a statement about climate change. (Apparently there were also some accuracy issues.)

Today I got another “activist” email forwarded to me proposing a coordinated deflation of SUV tires (see the bottom of this post if you want to read it). It also dissed the electrical power down “action,” proclaiming that the SUV action “can have real media and political weight.”

Maybe. Letting air out of SUV tires might be much more effective, radical, revolutionary. Or not. I feel pretty sure that if I was an SUV driver and I got back to my car to find that someone had deflated my tires, I wouldn’t feel that open to hearing about the important message they were trying to draw attention to. I would probably just be really angry and hold a big fat grudge on all those goddam hippie anarchists, and close my mind forever to the possibility that they might have had something intelligent and important to say.

In any event, I’m likely not going to join the masses to fight climate change by deflating SUV tires. I didn’t turn off my lights or my computer this afternoon either. I didn’t even bother having an orgasm on global orgasm for peace day!

Though I’m a big sucker for the idea that mass action can move mountains, I don’t think this particular form of internet “activism” is the way to go. Actually, I’m pretty sure these mass forwards are no more effective than those bullshit forwarded petitions that were all the rage a few years back. I don’t even think they’re that much better than the tacky chain emails that demand you forward them to at least five people for good luck. They prey on similar things, inspiring the niggling guilt that I should forward it to my entire address book to avoid letting myself or my friend, or (heaven forbid) the planet down!

I’m irritated at myself for succumbing to the pressure. I’m irritated at the people who forward me the crap. And I’m irritated by the people who come up with the hoo hah in the first place. I’m gloriously, irrationally irritated, and being irritated is the most irritating thing!

So to cleanse myself of the bullshit I thought I’d make a list of some actions that I actually think are useful. Turns out I’m not even doing most of them. Damn! So if you’re not either, then maybe we can do them together:

• Put a plastic jug in the tank of your toilet to save water
• Write a letter to the editor
• Walk to work
• Run for city council
• Grow a garden
• Use vinegar in water to wash your mirrors and windows
• Meditate

Please circulate this call to your utmost ability to your network.

xo n

P.S. Here’s the SUV thing…decide for yourselves how much merit the idea has:

Did you get that message forwarded to you that asked everyone in the world to simultaneously turn off the lights for five minutes — in the middle of the day — to “take action” and “send a message” about global warming? Did you roll your eyes? Then here’s the action for you…

Participate in the biggest direct action mobilization of the Air Liberation Front!

The Air Liberation Front (a clandestine network dedicated to the liberation of air from the tires of unneccesarily-oversized vehicles) is calling on all citizens to create a few hours of gas-guzzling rest for the planet.

People all over the world can go to their nearest parking lot on the sixth of February 2007, between 2 and 4, and let the air out of an SUV’s tires (preferably a Hummer). (Hint: if you place a very small pebble in the cap and screw it partially on, the pebble will push in the valve and the air will deflate slowly without you having to remain crouched beside the offending vehicle.)

A few hours of gas-guzzling downtime for the planet: this does not take long, and costs nothing, and will show all political leaders that global warming is an issue that needs to come first and foremost in political debate.

This event affects us all, involves us all, and provides an occasion to show how important an issue global warming is to us. If we all participate, this action can have real media and political weight.

Please circulate this call to your utmost ability to your network.

Addendum (2/2/07): Upon reflection this started to bug me. Check out my next posting for some elaboration. xo n.

The 1st of February 2007:

Participate in the biggest mobilization of Citizens Against Global Warming!

The Alliance for the Planet [a group of environmental associations] is calling on all citizens to create 5 minutes of electrical rest for the planet. http://www.lalliance.fr

People all over the world should turn off their lights and electrical appliances on the first of February 2007, between 1.55 pm and 2.00 pm in New York, 18.55 for London, and 19.55 for Paris, Bruxelles, and Italy. 1.55pm in Ottawa, 10.55am on the Pacific Coast of North America.

This is not just about saving 5 minutes worth of electricity; this is about getting the attention of the media, politicians, and ourselves.

Five minutes of electrical down time for the planet: this does not take long, and costs nothing, and will show all political leaders that global warming is an issue that needs to come first and foremost in political debate.

Why February 1? This is the day when the new UN report on global climate change will come out in Paris.

This event affects us all, involves us all, and provides an occasion to show how important an issue global warming is to us. If we all participate, this action can have real media and political weight.

Ok, so I thought the 100-mile diet was radical until my mom forwarded me this article called “Consumed with less: not buying any food” (Globe & Mail, January 13, 2007)*. It’s about the Freegan movement, which basically takes freecycling to the next (and perishable) level: dumpster diving for wasted food that is still fine to eat.

It’s not something I can personally envision myself doing, probably for a combination of reasons including a slight phobia of other people’s dirt and germs, and the cultural perception of what it means to dig through the garbage. On one hand I have a long and proud history of finding treasures in the trash, but eating only from the garbage probably wouldn’t cut it for me. Eating is not just a political statement for me. It also has everything to do with health, and I find it hard to imagine having a consistently well-balanced diet through Freeganism alone.

That said, I have to admit I like the idea. One girl’s garbage is another girl’s treasure, a truth that undoubtedly holds for food too. Visit www.freegankitchen.com for more info and to see a great video blog about cooking Freegan style that makes it look totally appealing and sexy. And here’s a YouTube clip that’s fun too:

*For some reason the link to the complete article doesn’t work, but I did access it by Googling “consumed with less globe mail.”

Last night I got home from work to find my roommate lying on the couch watching TV. We haven’t had any channels at all since we canceled the cable a couple months back, so I was confused about what was happening. “Is that TV?” I asked (stupidly), waking him. “It’s cable,” he replied (groggily), rolling over on the couch.

I left feeling kind of gross. My mind immediately leapt to: Wow, my roommates think I’m completely nuts, and so they got cable back without even asking me. Irrational, but I honestly couldn’t think of any other possible explanation. In the end it turns out my other roommate, who claims to only be able to do homework in front of the TV, decided on a whim that she needed cable back ASAP and couldn’t wait to discuss it with us. She figured she’d just pay for the whole thing if we didn’t want it.

So now we have stupid cable. Of course I’ll feel like a twit if I watch any TV at all and then try to get out of contributing to the cost of the cable. And of course I’ve already watched the damn thing, so basically I’m a giant hypocrite.

And so it is that I awake (or rather, am awakened) from my utopian TV-free dream. I’m not surprised - 2007 has been that kind of year so far: this cable hoo hah seems the perfect metaphor for the feeling I have that my own destiny seems just beyond my reach. Depressing, really. I’m raging against it, but kind of powerlessly. Damn.

What is a girl to do? Go to sleep and hope that she gets up on the right side of the bed in the morning, I guess.

Sweet dreams,
xox n

For the past two and a half months I’ve undertaken to buy nothing new, and I’ve resolved to keep up the effort for another 290 or so days. Hurtling into 2007 has found me feeling very much like I’ve just scratched the surface of what’s possible with this project, and like it might be time to start taking it to whole other levels. Not all at once, but with clear intention and resolve. (And joy and uproarious laughter, pretty please!) So here is what I am dreaming of and working towards for Subverting Overconsumption in 2007:

1. Becoming financially independent
No small feat, I’m aware. But I’m resolving to practice the nine fabulous steps of Your Money or Your Life until I get there! How I consume is inextricably linked to how I spend, and I want my relationship to money to be aligned with my values. I think that’s what differentiates stated versus actual values (i.e., what we say is important versus the choices we make and actions we take). So Your Money or Your Life is officially being added to the Revised Guidelines for Subverting Overconsumption.

2. Becoming a home owner
I don’t want to give away Canada’s best kept real estate secret, but Regina is probably the last Canadian city where the likes of me (a.k.a. The Creative Class/Working Poor) can still aspire to invest in real estate without being permanently in debt. Of course I’m not talking about buying a new house! I’m talking about a tiny, old, ramshackle Regina character home. Just imagine setting up house and fixing up a fixer-upper without buying anything new! The possibilities are endless: skills exchanges, community sharing of tools (e.g., ladders, lawn mowers, etc.), learning handy skills, scoring recycled or freecycled building materials, taking epic road trips into rural Saskatchewan searching for the perfect vintage living room suite. Documenting the project could be a project in itself!

3. Incorporating food
Ah, food. The grand caveat. The original Guidelines for Subverting Overconsumption had everything to do with “stuff”, but nothing to do with how I actually nourish my body. And man, have I ever been taking advantage of that. Treats and wine and restaurant dining galore!

But in the meantime I’ve been exposed to some inspiring food ideas (The Omnivore’s Dilemma and the 100-Mile Diet, to name just a couple). On top of that, Your Money or Your Life has been kicking me in the ass and raising my consciousness about all aspects of my spending. The combined effect is absolute clarity that ignoring food in any conversation about consumption is just silly. So although I’m not quite ready for the 100-mile diet in Southern Saskatchewan just yet (though I have a friend who’s working at it as we speak), food is coming under the microscope in 2007. For now I’ve started buying Canadian wine (it’s important to celebrate the small victories, right?).

4. Incorporating Culture
See above…even sillier than pretending to be able to talk about consumption without talking about food is trying to talk about it without talking about culture. I want to produce more than I consume (i.e., I want my net creativity to be positive). I don’t want to have a TV again. I think I might not even want internet at home. I don’t think I need to read magazines anymore. I think what I really need to do is write. And make images. Make make make make make.

(Practical steps for producing more including: 1) taking this magazine writing course; 2) adding a Nikon digital SLR camera to the Wish List; 3) joining the Film Pool and Neutral Ground; 4) telling people what I’m trying to do.)

5. Working less
The status quo does not support the philosophy that working less than full-time is justifiable or even possible. People keep asking me how I like my new job, and I keep giving the same answer: it’s good, but I don’t like working full-time. Usually they laugh at me. Or sometimes their response is, with a slight edge to their voice, “Well, we all have to work.” The cultural conception seems to be that you must be lazy to want to work less than full time. But I don’t know if anyone who knows me would use the word lazy to describe my personality. And I can think of several reasons off the top of my head why full-time work might not be an ideal option for a person (parenthood, disability, art, activism…). So what does working less have to do with my intention towards subversive underconsumption? I want to produce more than I consume (in the creative and consumer senses). So I need more time to produce, and I need fewer resources with which to consume.

6. Finding a co-conspirator
I’m probably the most romantic cynic you’ll ever meet. At this point in my life, I am also one consummately single human. But I don’t particularly aspire towards that being a permanent state. I think this adventure would be so much more fun if I had someone really kickass to kick my ass. I haven’t been in this city long enough to justify adding “awesome boyfriend” to the Wish List, but this is me putting the possibility out to the universe.

So there you have it. Think big? Ok, you got me. Go down in flames? Well yeah, sometimes. But this isn’t about success or failure, right? It’s about my goddam process…staying awake to it, and to what the universe sends me. Right now it’s sending me—in no uncertain terms—photographers and debates about the nature of hope, both of which I’m doing my best to receive with gratitude and grace (or something related to grace).

With that I wish you all bountifully underconsumptive 2007s.

xox n

The results of the Subverting Overconsumption holiday poll have been painstakingly tabulated (all 36 votes). Here are the subversively underconsumptive holiday gifts you’d most like to receive:

1st place tie: Homemade foodstuffs and Homemade/crafted gifts (9 votes each)
2nd place: No gift necessary (6 votes)
3rd place tie: Charitable donation on your behalf and Dinner out together (3 votes each)
4th place tie: Products bought used and Re-gifted items (1 vote each)
5th place: Screw off! I want a real gift (no votes (due to some technical difficulty with the suvey itself that I was too lazy to resolve))

Thanks for taking part! For some other sweet suggestions, check out the reader comments on my pre-holiday post.

So how did Christmas Day proper pan out on the underconsumptive gift giving/receiving front? The family members that spent the day together had a $10 price limit for gifts, which took a lot of the pressure off and made things fun (I recommend it). Here’s the debrief:

Gave:
- More enlarged original photographs in thrift store frames
- Souvenir from Thailand that I’ve been hanging onto since the spring
- Door prize I won in the fall
- Purchased foodstuffs (definitely cheating)

Received:
- Cash
- Bath stuffs
- Puzzle game for the “stressed executive” (I guess that’s me)
- Slippers
- Calendar
- Organic fair trade chocolate bar

So there we have it. The most overly consumptive part of the year is almost over, and I’d say that my holiday efforts to underconsume were, for the most part, successful (though I won’t even touch my consumption of shortbread and perogies, neither of which were moderate).

Happy almost 2007.

xox n

Awesome headline, right? For those of you who’ve been following Subverting Overconsumption, you may recall my mental hurdle to buy used socks, and the ensuing dialogue about what would happen when the time came for new (or at least new-to-me) underwear.

It seems that buying someone else’s socks is one thing (I’m shamelessly wearing my thrift store socks as I type), but that recycling panties has whole other connotations. Though in recent years I can admit to cheerfully buying the odd second-hand bra, slip or vintage bathing suit, when it comes to the generally quiet lingerie aisle at Value Village I generally steer clear, and I never browse the panties.

That aside, the used undy question makes for interesting conversation. A favourite uncle sent me an email (subject heading: “dead man’s underwear”) that read: “So I hear you are going to buy nothing new for a whole year, what a great idea. Sometimes I find new underwear at the sally-ann, but I think they may have been a dead man’s pair and he just never got to use them.” I also had a chat with Stonehead about the dilemma, on both his and my blog.

All that said, I guess I’m as much disappointed as relieved that the underwear dilemma has been resolved before it even became a problem. Turns out my mom “couldn’t bear the thought” of me not buying new underwear for a year, and so intervened by buying* me four shiny new pair for Christmas. And so my passable underwear collection is now even better, and the debate can likely be put to rest for the remainder of the project. Thanks mom! (But I have to wonder how much more fun it would’ve been to play it out the other way!)

*Passing through Calgary (my hometown and the current Canadian hub of overconsumption) on her way to Saskatchewan for Christmas, my mom stopped at the iconically Canadian and newly American-owned Hudson’s Bay Company to buy a pair of pants. It happened to be Scratch and Save, and she happened to scratch an unheard of 45% savings on all merchandise in the store. So instead of buying a single pair of pants at regular price, she made the most of her savings by spending several times what she originally planned to on all manner of products (including my brand-spanking-new ginch). She then went home and passed the savings card to a friend, who went and bought a ton more stuff that she would have otherwise not bought. Talk about viral consumption…I’m not sure what kind of human would be completely immune to it.

xo n

(Note: Snyder family be advised that reading further will give away your Christmas presents.)

With only a few days left till Santa, my attempts to subvert holiday overconsumption have been moderately (if not wildly) successful. I haven’t been in a mall or a big box store, and it feels great. But unfortunately I haven’t been magically moved to create innovative underconsumptive gifts either. The moments of inspiration have been few.

Fortunately I’ve managed to manifest at least one decent series of gifts. The idea came way back in the summer, when I came across a snapshot of my great grandparents in 1910, standing on the prairie with a boxy storefront in the background. Neither of them could have been older than 25, and they look happy.

I love this picture. I love the sense of history and place it gives me. So I went and had 8″ x 10″ enlargements made, put them in frames, and sent them to every family member on that side of the family. Father, grandparents, aunt and uncle, cousins.

I think it’s a good present. But talk about putting all my eggs in one basket! As the box travels west and north I find myself feeling insecure on a bunch of different levels. For one thing, I’m not sure if or how far photo development falls outside my guidelines for subverting overconsumption, and after worrying about that for a while the photos didn’t turn out exactly how I wanted anyway (the photo dude cut off the giant prairie sky, which is a big part of what makes the original photo so cool). For another thing, hiking out to Value Village to buy recycled frames meant that I had to take what I could get, even though it meant settling for some fairly ratty looking frames. On top of that I didn’t buy wrapping paper - instead I did a bit of a hack job wrapping them in old magazine pages and recycled velvet and lace ribbon.

Then of course there’s the problem of them being my only gift…what if they just seem lame?

Why is it that despite sparing myself the holiday stress of the malls and consumption, I’m still managing to worry that I’m going to come off like a cheap twit to my friends and family? Two months in to this project (today is Subverting Overconsumption’s two month anniversary!) I realize I still don’t feel quite secure underconsuming in a culture that associates how much we buy with how much success, love and gratitude we have. I wonder when that’s going to wear off. I really want it to wear off dammit!

Subversive season’s greetings to you and yours,

xo n

Are humans smarter than yeast?

This may be the most relevant question of our times. Peak Oil expert Richard Heinberg posed this ridiculous sounding and deadly serious question at a recent lecture he gave in Regina, entitled “Peak Oil: Challenges and Opportunities at the end of Cheap Petroleum.” Check out the logic:

“Yeast growing in grape juice provide a good example of overshoot and collapse behavior. The yeast go after the sugar in the juice and in the process of metabolizing that sugar, they produce alcohol and carbon dioxide. As they consume the sugar, they also reproduce and their reproductive rate is dependent on the availability of food. Within a few days, at room temperature, the yeast population soars…But, the alcohol is a pollutant as far as the yeast are concerned and as their population rises, so does the level of alcohol. If there is enough sugar in the juice, the yeast will eventually produce so much alcohol that they start to die off rapidly and as the sugar reservoir is depleted, their reproductive rates plummet, leading to a total collapse of the population. So, in turning the juice into wine, the gluttonous, know-no-restraint yeast do themselves in.” (from “The Human Population System”)

So is gluttonous, know-no-restraint humanity any smarter, or will we continue to consume oil like yeast scarfs down sugar? The by-products of our immoderate consumption are fossil fuels, which (like alcohol for yeast) are poisonous to us. Can our human arrogance handle the possibility that we may be no more capable of surviving our own compulsive appetites than are unicellular fungi fermenting themselves into oblivion? Thanks for asking, Mr. Heinberg.

With the number of shopping days till Christmas counting down, I still haven’t developed my Buy Little-to-Nothing Christmas strategy. This week found my house (and life) moving into high gear for the holidays, but I’m still lagging behind. If anything, I should have starting thinking about Christmas earlier than the average consumer, but instead I’ve put it off and am now about to fly into a panic!

So far my attempts to subvert overconsumption this holiday season haven’t been all that successful.

First hurdle: Tree. My roommate really wanted a tree. I also love having a tree. I’ve always had a real tree. I couldn’t decide whether having a real tree was in any way justifiable under the Guidelines for Subverting Overconsumption. I tried to find a Freecycled tree (posting once myself and responding to two posts) and failed. My roommate finally bought a brand new artificial Christmas tree from Wal-Mart or Liquidation World (I can’t remember which). Shit.

Second hurdle: Gifts.

(Warning: if you are a relative or close friend, you may wish to stop reading this posting now (unless you’re more interested in the process of Subverting Overconsumption than you are in being surprised by what present you get from me).)

I seem to have several gifting options, which I could also mix and match. But so far I’m not feeling overly inspired, and the clock is ticking. I made crabapple jelly in the summer (but at the moment it’s several hundred kilometres away). I could probably find some good used books online. My roommate found a recipe for homemade bath salts in Martha Stewart Living. In the past I’ve made mix CDs, but this year I’m not sure what to do about buying (or rather, not buying) CD-Rs. I thought of personalized storybooks, but that’d be a frick of a lot of work. I won a door prize I could re-gift.

I’m sure I’ll figure something out, but how about some help! Cast your vote on the Subverting Overconsumption Holiday Poll (top left of this page) for a chance to win a subversively underconsumptive gift from yours truly (well, not really, since voting is anonymous…but if you leave a really great comment we can talk!).

xo n

It’s 11 days and counting since the cable was shut off. We have zero channels, and as a result I haven’t watched the TV at all. Specific initial outcomes of the experiment include:

• Borrowed first DVDs from public library (Truly, Madly, Deeply and One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest)
• Went out every night for a week (totally unheard of)
• Walked outside more (despite the incredibly harsh Regina weather)
• Read more than my combined total for the past six months
• Discovered that the only program I actually miss is Survivor
• Discovered that I actually really miss Survivor (damn)
• Discovered that Survivor is available online on the Global website (with fewer ads than on TV)
• Joined the Teleban (group of blogs lobbying (playfully) for a Ban on TV)

General outcomes include:

• Increased/improved social life
• Increased sense of productivity (unclear whether this translates to actual increased productivity)
• Improved well-being

Overall, the results seem to indicate that not watching TV is great for me, and that not paying for cable is absolutely appropriate to this project. Unfortunately, my love affair with a TV-free life might be shortlived.

My roommates miss TV! The roommate who felt productive and engaged the weekend the cable was cut off now tells me that not having TV makes her feel isolated, and that she doesn’t want to spend time at home.

I was really sad to realize that not everyone thrives on a TV-free existence the way I seem to. And unfortunately, if my roommates do decide to get cable again, I don’t think it would be cool for me to opt out, so that puts me in a tricky situation.

As mentioned in The revolution will not have cable, if the TV is there I will watch it (I’m the kind of creature that requires a healthy environment to actually be healthy). And regardless of that, it would feel pretty tacky not to chip in if both my roommates really want it.

Another possibility is that we get an antenna, which would get us two or three channels for free (though then I’d be buying that, which would still be outside the guidelines…dammit!). The other possibility is that I move out, but I’m not sure the goal of Subverting Overconsumption is to isolate myself from the world so that I can perfectly control my environment. Or maybe it is…arghhh.

What it seems to come down to is that it’s hard to make significant lifestyle downshifts towards reduced consumption and increased sustainability when the people around me aren’t necessarily making similar changes. Of course I dream to changing mass consciousness by putting my own values in full practice, but the idea of preaching (e.g., “Oh come on, don’t you feel like you’d be a more engaged, happier, human human if you never watched TV again?”) feels much more like a nightmare.

So obviously I haven’t struck a balance with any of this. But if the roommates want TV, I don’t think I can and/or will make a giant fuss over it.

xo n

Hmmm…Not as naughty as it sounds, but these posters from Take back Your Time are still fun.

It’s true! There is a correlation between how much time we spend working and how much we consume. In general, the more we earn, the more we spend. And the more we work, the less time we have for everything, including making conscious choices.

Check out www.timeday.org for more info.

Two days ago my household’s satellite cable was cut off. Since then I’ve felt completely liberated.

The thing with me and TV is that when it’s around I watch it. I remember a few times when I accidentally had free cable, like one time in high school when for a period of time I watched Star Trek: The Next Generation practically every night. Other times I haven’t had a TV at all, and when it’s not there it generally doesn’t occur to me to miss it. Typically, it seems that the amount of TV available to me directly corresponds to the amount I consume and the attachment I experience. It’s that simple.

I like to think that I’m in control of my television consumption, but the reality is that I’m not. As I become more conscious of my consumption habits, I notice that I will sit down in front of the TV even when I don’t want to. Sometimes I’ll even flip it on hoping to disconnect from whatever I’m feeling: the stress of a tough day at work, the loneliness of living in a new city, or a lack of inspiration to write or draw.

I’ve been aware of how bad TV is for me for a while, so much so that when I was planning my move to my new city I intended to have no TV at all. But then I found a shared house that was already furnished with everything, including a totally outrageous satellite cable package.

At the time there didn’t seem to be much I could do about it. I loved the house, so I wasn’t not going to move in. And I didn’t want to waltz in to my new communal living situation making a big fuss about the way things were already set up. Besides, at that point I was feeling pretty righteous about the whole thing. Big deal, I thought. My roommates can watch the boob tube if they want, but I’ll be too busy with my vibrant social and creative life to even notice!

Righteous or not, as usual I ended up watching the TV because it was there. Though it turns out that having 250 channels doesn’t necessarily (or even regularly) ensure there is anything worthwhile on, I enjoyed that CSI or What Not to Wear were pretty much guaranteed to be on at any hour, and that if I missed The Hour or Survivor at 7pm or 8pm, I could catch it at 9 or 10. Oh, the freedom!

What I didn’t figure out until we received the first bill was that I was actually buying cable for the first time in my life. The painful irony was that my first-ever paid cable experience occurred in conjunction with the very first month of my project to Subvert Overconsumption by buying nothing new for a year.

Yuck. Now, at the beginning of this project I wrote into my Guidelines for Subverting Overconsumption a caveat about consuming culture, so technically I’m off the hook. In fact, TV wasn’t even mentioned in the Guidelines at all, and it certainly didn’t occur to me that paying for cable was going to be problematic. But interestingly, taking cultural consumption off the hook has actually had the effect of making me hypersensitive to the culture I do consume.

Happily, the roommates agreed that $50 a month for satellite cable was a little over the top, so as a first step we decided to downsize to a more basic cable package. It took a few weeks, but when I got home Friday night, there it was: no satellite signal. I have to admit that after a long week at work I felt a little dismayed at the prospect of filling an exhausted Friday night with anything other than cable.

But something in the universe must want to support a cable-free me, because reluctant though I felt I was swept into a most excellent weekend involving improv theatre, looking at, making and trading art, meeting new people, writing, a movie, brunch, working out, visiting the library, taking pictures of the crisp winter day, and smiling at nothing and everything.

And so there it is. Just like that, I have a lighter heart. Is my weekend of renewed connectedness and possibility the result of not watching the boob tube for two days? I guess it would be a little simplistic to think so, but whatever the cause, something’s shifted and I’m glad. When I got home this afternoon I asked my roommate what she thought about not having any cable at all, and she said she’d been feeling great and more productive too, and that she thought it was a good idea.

All this reinforces something I already knew about myself, which is that my health requires good habits that have to be supported by my environment. Feeling empowered to design my own healthy environment is crucial, and it obviously doesn’t include cable. Pretty straightforward.

On that note, let me leave you with a great posting I found about someone else who is experiencing the delights of not having cable:

Why you too should cancel cable

Til next time, consume subversively,

xo n

My subversion of overconsumption has officially encountered its first big test.

I put my back out this morning. I wasn’t doing anything in particular, apart from sleeping in bed. Now I’m in pain. I’m hopped up on Robax Platinum, which does no damn good whatsoever.

I can think of only two things that could have caused my back pain. One is physical, the other is spiritual.

The physical one is simple: my bed sucks. It came with my furnished room. It’s a spongy, saggy mattress that sits on an even saggier box spring that sits on four bricks. No back could withstand such a shitty bed for long.

It’s obvious I need a new bed. But how am I supposed to get one when I’ve resolved to buy nothing new for a year? Back pain is great for melting my resolve. All I want right now is for some bed fairies to deliver a deluxe posturepedic bed, haul it up to my room, make it up with a warm duvet, fill up a hot water bottle, feed me Robax and cocoa, tuck me in and read me stories until I fall off into a gentle, muscle relaxant-induced slumber.

Subverting consumerism through conspicuous underconsumption be damned. Who came up with this stupid project anyway? I don’t want to seek out used mattresses on Regina Freecycle or at Value Village or in alleyways. I don’t want to haul some crappy old bed home to find it smells weird or is saggy or lumpy and makes my back hurt more. What would not buying a new bed achieve? Will sleeping on a crappy bed save drowning polar bears or get generic drugs to people with AIDS or reverse climate change? Or will my actions, well-intentioned though they may be, achieve nothing?

And thus, the physical cause of my pain leads directly to the spiritual one. Last night before falling asleep I was reading Radical Simplicity by Jim Merkel. On page 9 he quotes Castaneda’s Don Juan: “We must know first that our acts are useless, and yet we must proceed as if we didn’t know it. That is a sorcerer’s controlled folly.” That made me cry. Then I tried to sleep. In the early morning before the sun was up I was awakened by searing back pain.

Maybe it was the bed that did my back in, or maybe it was the knowledge of my own futility, or probably it was a bit of both. I don’t know how to know that my actions are useless and proceed anyway. I like to think that it’s possible, and I can give myself all sorts of pep talks about not being attached to the fruits of my labour and all that good stuff. But no matter how hard I think it, I don’t know how to make myself feel it. I want to make a difference dammit! Accepting that I won’t, no matter how hard I try, is probably the single most impossible request my life will make of me. I just don’t know if it’s possible for me to accept my own futility. And yet I agree with Castaneda/Merkel that it’s my only option.

So that’s where I am. In pain, both physical and spiritual. Where to go from here is unknown.

Suggestions? Anyone?

Subverting Overconsumption is like Zen, both in its simplicity and depth. In Zen, you sit and you breathe. That’s all. In and out, in and out. You breathe and breathe and breathe, and nothing happens. And everything happens.

There is something similar about this experiment in consumption. It’s a simple practice. Each day I have something simple and concrete to focus my mind on: don’t buy anything new. For close to one month now I have been practising and my mind has been opening. What began as an exercise in developing more conscious consumer habits is transforming into something much more expansive and all-encompassing.

Subverting Overconsumption isn’t just about buying nothing new. The potential of this practice is far greater that I imagined. As I wake up to the possibilities I realize that I want to do something beyond not buying anything new for a year: I want to increase my net creativity by bringing my consumption and my creative production into better balance. I want what I contribute to the universe to outweigh the resources I consume. I want to give more than I take away.

What does this balance look and feel like? Consumption is not just buying stuff. It’s eating and drinking, learning, watching TV, reading, listening to music. Production is gardening, writing, cooking, drawing, meditating, singing, volunteering, laughing. On their own, neither one has more or less value. The value comes in the balance. If my consumption outweights my production, I am in a position of draining energy from my planet and universe (and probably also from my friends, family and coworkers). If my contribution outweighs the resources I consume, then I am in a position of contributing a surplus of creativity. Neighbours and colleagues with higher consumption:production ratios will be able to buy creative production credits from me like polluting countries can buy credits from less polluting nations!

As a mindfulness practice, Subverting Overconsumption can be applied to more than my purchases. It’s a lens through which every moment can be viewed, a scale that can serve to weigh each choice. Like my breath, it’s a guide that I can return to again and again to focus my mind and energy. Come to think of it, maybe Subverting Overconsumption isn’t just like Zen practice. Maybe it is Zen practice.

When Subverting Overconsumption it’s important to pick one’s battles intelligently. Without that basic ability, it’s entirely possible to drive oneself mad. Case in point:

In 1999, not more than a babe in arms at the tender age of 22, I snuck online at a temping gig and used my virgin MasterCard to make my first-ever online purchase: The Keeper menstrual cup.

The Keeper was a most excellent investment, and it’s served me well for over seven years. To put it into perspective, I haven’t used a single disposable menstrual product in over 84 months – that’s a savings of well over 400 tampons or pads. My Keeper has paid for itself many times over, and it’s worked like a hot damn.

But even the best things don’t last forever, and though it’s been hard for me to accept, it’s high time that my Keeper was retired. Now, reinvestment in something so grand should probably be a no-brainer, but when I got my period yesterday I found myself debating whether I could justify the purchase of a brand new Keeper. Though it clearly falls under the “self-care” clause of this experiment (see Guidelines for Subverting Overconsumption), I still managed to create worry and guilt for myself over it.

What a royal waste of energy, and most certainly not the purpose of this project to fritter away precious time debating whether or not to invest in a sustainable alternative to all the lame mainstream options.

Mental note: buy a new Keeper and preach its virtues shamelessly at every opportunity.

For more info on menstrual cupts, check out:
The Diva Cup (Canadian product)
The Keeper

Trying to buy nothing new for a year is definitely challenging me to think outside the box when it comes to my consumption habits. In other ways, however, Subverting Overconsumption is requiring me to play some things old skool. It turns out that sometimes the solution I’m looking for has always been there, just waiting for me to notice it.

Take the public library for example. This past Saturday I visited the central branch of the Regina Public Library (RPL) to get myself a library card, something I haven’t had since I was about ten years old. While I was there I visited the art gallery that’s housed on the library’s premises, and checked out the schedule for the RPL theatre, Regina’s only repertory cinema. I received a brief introduction to the library’s services from a RPL staff-person, got my card, and before leaving spent a bit of time browsing the stacks and the online catalogue.

One visit was all it took to fall in love with my public library! I feel particularly lucky to have moved to a city where the library seems so especially excellent, and where the central branch is only a few blocks from my house. It’s possible that all city libraries are as cool as the RPL, but to be honest, I’ve had my head up my ass too long to know one way or another. For the past 20 years I’ve been completely oblivious to this most excellent of public spaces/services.

I’m not sure why the public library disappeared from my radar for so long. Living the majority of my adult life in a city where my first language wasn’t the official one probably had something to do with it. Plus I think I just got caught up in the romance of owning books. There’s just something undeniably sexy about having one’s own library. When I visit someone’s home for the first time I invariably check them out via their books, and I assume nothing less of my houseguests. There’s cultural capital in having interesting books on one’s shelf. (It doesn’t matter that I often buy fabulous sounding books only to have them sit on the bookshelf for months or years before I get around to reading them.)

When I decided to try to buy nothing new for a year I was scared that not having access to new books would make me out of touch and ill-informed. So thank heavens for the RPL. As I begin to update my ideas about what a public library has to offer I realize that things have likely changed a little in the 20 years since I had my last library card. For example, the Internet and digital media happened. On my way into the library on Saturday I passed a youngish guy with an armload of DVDs, and before that moment it had honestly never occurred to me that it was possible to borrow DVDs (for free!) from the public library. It turns out the RPL has 11,000 DVDs to choose from, a collection I can browse online from the privacy of my own home. I may never have to set foot in a Blockbuster again!

I know how all this must sound to you open-minded and intelligent public-service utilizing citizens out there. It’s like I just woke up from a 20-year coma and am stunned by how far the world has come while I was asleep. The point I’m trying to make is that sometimes it’s the simplest things that this project is getting me to notice, just by forcing me to take a little extra time to think about the ways I consume. Things like the public library that have always been there, right under my nose and free, seem incredibly exciting and innovative. In the case of the library, the very thing that makes it so special – its accessibility – might be the same thing that makes it so easy to take it for granted. As one of our last truly public spaces, my fear is that dimwits like me will keep sleeping through the wonders of the library until it does finally disappear into the oblivion

Some facts that make me love the RPL even more (courtesy of the RLP website):

• “The RPL Film Theatre began as a community film society in the mid-1960s. We are the only cinema in the city to consistently present and support critically acclaimed Canadian, foreign and independent films.” (Adult admission is $6 or $9 for a double feature.)

• “The Dunlop Art Gallery is dedicated to engaging, researching and presenting a diverse range of visual artwork…We are fortunate to be located within the Regina Public Library. A place people go looking for answers. At the gallery we pose questions.”

• “Library Art Rentals: There are currently over 200 works of historic and contemporary paintings and graphic art by Canadian artists. This collection circulates through loans to individual patrons and organizations with a Regina Public Library borrower’s card for a modest fee. Works are not available for sale.”

• “Homebound Service: Available for Regina residents of all ages who, for reasons of ill health, disability or age are unable to visit the Library; are unable to leave their homes for a period of three months or longer.”

• Internet, free of charge.

Now that Halloween is over and the overpriced candy has been relegated to the discount bin, retailers will have ample space to begin the Christmas marketing barrage. Probably the best excuse to consume all year, the holiday season blurs the lines between family, consumption, religion, gratitude and generosity. The annual pressure to consume can make it hard to remember what it’s really supposed to be about.

What is it really supposed to be about anyway? Coming from a WASPy ethnicity but not actually being a Christian myself, Christmas has never been a particularly spiritual observance for me. Rather, the festive season’s been primarily about family, friends and presents, with Santa playing a much more active role in my season’s cheer than Jesus. When I think Christmas, I think turkey, perogies, copious amounts of sugar, and tearing open packages with abandon, under a tree with my family.

Whether by peanut brittle or Pier 1 Asia-inspired plate sets, my Christmastime is certainly tied to consumption. So what does it mean that I’ve resolved to buy nothing new this holiday season? Will I enjoy Christmas less? Will I come off like a preachy wet blanket to family and friends?

Those are my fears, but there may be hope. When I recently discovered the Buy Nothing Christmas website I realized I’m not alone in my hopes to subvert overconsumption this Christmas. BNC is a campaign started by group of Adbusters-affiliated Mennonites, and is inspired by a mix of spiritual and sociopolitical values. An expansion of Buy Nothing Day, BNC challenges the culturally sanctioned overconsumption of mainstream Christmas and aims to reclaim holiday cheer that is both spiritually meaningful and socially responsible.

The website has tons of good resources and suggestions for ways to express gratitude and generosity to loved ones over the holidays without buying much or anything. It inspires me to stick to my goal of gifting differently this year, perhaps with homemade art, donations to charities, or recycled/found gifts. The possibilities are endless, and I have a feeling that putting this kind of thought into the proceedings will make my holidays more meaningful and more fun to boot.

Don’t forget, good things come in no packages.

xo n

A couple of weeks ago I was in Montreal staying with a close girlfriend that I hadn’t seen in a year. I was preparing to move to a new city, far away from all my good friends, and the visit gave me a chance to spend some quality time with people I’m not going to see much of for a while. It was Thanksgiving and we decided to make a proper holiday of it, with good wine, good food and good times at the top of our list of priorities.

I’d been thinking about starting this project where I try to become a more conscious consumer by buying nothing new for a year, but I knew that starting it in Montreal would be tough. Usually our girl-style good times have at least something to do with clothes shopping, and sure enough, one of my friend’s first suggestions for the weekend was that we make a pilgrimage to H&M. I hedged a little, and even mentioned that I was thinking of starting this project about consumerism, but it was weak resistance at best. I can’t kid myself. I love shopping, especially with my best girlfriends. It’s part of how we have fun, let off steam and relate to each other.

What I’m beginning to realize is that it’s this social aspect of my relationship to shopping that makes my particular brand of consumerism so insidious. My overconsumption is not just about acquiring stuff. It’s actually about my identity and how I interact with the world around me. It’s about how I connect with people I care about in my life. It’s even a coping mechanism I use when I’m stressed or depressed or bored – a medication I use on myself after a nasty day at work or a major (or minor) disappointment. It’s all of these things, and as I become more aware of what and why and when I consume my eyes open to all of this and I realize how complicated and fascinating a project like this could actually become.

When my friend suggested H&M, I didn’t know how to handle it. I was thinking about starting this project, but I was scared to talk about it because I wasn’t sure if it was crazy or if I was capable of it. I was scared that making a big deal about it and refusing to go shopping would make me a hypocrite if I started the project and then couldn’t pull it off. The other side of it was that I just wanted to go to H&M with my good friend and try on fun clothes and be silly. I wanted to go!

So we went. We burnt a bitching mix CD and drove out to a mall in the ‘burbs. We dug through the heaps of Cambodian and Indonesian-made clothes and stood in line waiting to try them on. I blew some cash on some clothes I needed and some that I didn’t. And then we drove home, laid our new purchases out on the couch to admire, drank some wine, watched some movies, and did all the other things that I love to do with my girls.

Two weeks later I’m in my new home in my new city, where there’s no H&M or Jacob or Zara. I’m also one week in to what I hope will be a year of buying nothing new. I decided to have a go at it to see what happens.

When I sent my friend the link to this blog to tell her about the project, she wrote back: “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone about H&M.” At first her response embarrassed me. I mean, who enjoys having their hypocrisies pointed out to them? But it also got me thinking. I knew going into this project that I didn’t want it to be about asceticism or preaching some high and mighty set of values. Nobody’s perfect and I know I’m not either, nor am I trying to be. I like to shop and I hang around people who like to shop. Shopping with my friends is fun. Shopping when I’m down makes me feel better.

All these things are true about me and probably always will be, which is what makes this project so perfect! I’m aware of my hypocrisies, but I want to know even more about them. This project isn’t about being perfect. It’s about being imperfect and in process, and exploring what happens when my awareness of that deepens. It’s about setting an example by being flawed and increasingly conscious in the process.

The things I own don’t define who I am, but I’m finding that saying that and actually believing it and really putting it into practice are two entirely different things. I’m also starting to figure out that that is what makes this project so very interesting and necessary.

Sometimes participating in the secondhand economy is fun and sexy, like today when I bought a jaunty blue tam at a Saturday morning church bazaar. Other times, becoming a more conscious consumer and working to adopt a more sustainable lifestyle feels much less glamorous.

Case in point: secondhand socks. After missing the entirety of the last Canadian winter traveling in Southeast Asia, this autumn finds me short on appropriate footwear. With Subverting Overconsumption only a few days old, I was determined that the secondhand economy fulfill my sock needs. Despite my good intentions, upon arriving at Value Village I felt decidedly unenthusiastic about the prospect of dawning someone else’s stockings.

Their selection was limited and quite drab, causing some unconscious middleclass hipster snobbery to rear its ugly head. But I persevered, and ended up with four relatively decent pairs of $0.69 socks. It wasn’t actually that bad at all (and the cute pair of secondhand pumps that I used to reward myself certainly didn’t hurt).

Having mustered the resolve to buy used socks once, I can easily imagine that the next time some multinational demands $18 for three pairs I may voluntarily opt to pay under a buck to reuse the perfectly good socks at my neighbourhood thrift shop. Like all good habits it’s about training myself…practising something healthy until it feels so natural that I can’t remember why on Earth I would have ever done it differently.

Until next time, buy nothing.

xox n

Does your household have several dozen or hundred extra plastic bags floating around? Do you have a special drawer reserved for them in your kitchen or back porch, or have you attached a stylish plastic bag holder to the inside of a cupboard door? Have you gotten to the point where there are just too many bags to bother saving? It can’t hurt the environment too much to throw a few dozen away from time to time, can it?

Guess what? Plastic bags don’t go away. Whenever they eventually do leave your house, they sit in the landfill indefinitely. They don’t break down. Well, they might eventually, but chances are we’ll all be long gone when they do.

When I moved into my new home it was “furnished” in all senses of the word, right down to a plastic bag holder jam packed with bags. Having just begun my project of Subverting Overconsumption by not buying anything new for a year, I was dismayed that the first days of the process found me burdened with more bags.

Now don’t get me wrong. Even at my most determined, remembering to bring old plastic bags (or better yet, reusable cloth ones!) along when I go grocery shopping is generally beyond me, and the reason it fails to sink into my consciousness is mysterious and profoundly confounding. So it was with immense relief and gratitude that I recently stumbled on some angels bent on saving me from being plastic wrapped into oblivion.

The staff at Eat Healthy Foods organic grocery store in Regina Saskatchewan have adopted a simple yet brilliant practice: they invite their customers to bring in old plastic bags for reuse. Let me count the ways in which this is so damn excellent:

1. It provides an opportunity to reuse (many times over) some of the countless plastic bags that would otherwise get landfilled.

2. It saves the proprietor of Eat Healthy Foods the cost of buying new bags.

3. It alleviates the guilt the customer feels when we forget to bring our own bags, and empowers us to be able to reuse our old bags by bringing them into the store.

Thank you Eat Healthy Foods. To find out more about this sweet little independent business, check out this article in The Commonwealth.

And don’t forget that innovative small business owners aren’t the only ones that can take positive action. Check out the actions you can take:

1. Suggest to stores you frequent that they follow Eat Healthy Foods’ example by accepting donations of plastic bags for reuse.

2. Keep a bag of bags in the trunk of your car or in your bag for reuse at all times, so you won’t kick yourself for forgetting them!

3: Invest in a few large cloth bags to shop with, and keep them where you’ll see them and use them.

4. Don’t be discouraged by forgetting once in awhile. Remember that each time you don’t bring home new plastic bags is a victory, and that bringing them home occasionally doesn’t erase your efforts.

Here is some interesting further info on the subject:
Plastic Bag Podcast
The Guardian article on plastic bags
Info and resources from Worldwatch

Until next time, buy nothing.

xox n

The universe supports the subversion of overconsumption. Where on Earth did I come up with such a wacky idea? Right on my own front porch. The day I arrived at my new house in my new city, I was thinking about starting this project where I try to buy nothing new for a year and document the process of underconsumption. I was writing about the idea in a journal with only a few blank pages remaining.

In the front porch of my new house was a pile of boxes labeled “for Value Village,” which my landlord encouraged me to scavenge. What did I find at the bottom of one box but a lovely unused journal, just waiting for me. The cover read: “Dream your dreams with open eyes and make them come true. - T.E. Lawrence.”

They say that one girl’s garbage is another girl’s treasure. Jung called it synchronicity. I agree and thank the universe for taking the trouble to encourage me to start. Until next time, buy nothing.
xox n

Welcome to Subverting Overconsumption! The idea is this: I want to lighten my ecological footprint on the Earth and creatively document the process. If every human on the planet lived the lifestyle I’ve been leading, we would require four and a half Earths to survive. Since we’ve only got one, lightening the weight with which I tread on the planet seems like the best (and indeed, the only) way to go. With that in mind, for the next year I intend to buy nothing new, and to explore the creative and spiritual results of underconsumption.

Of course, such an undertaking will undoubtedly be easier said than done! I’m genetically predisposed to collecting vintage junk and I’m a cheapskate to boot, so the idea of buying furniture and appliances secondhand doesn’t faze me. But it didn’t take me long to start thinking of the many ways this project will be tough. How will I stay current without new books and magazines? It’s one thing to buy used clothes, but will I really be able to bring myself to shop at Value Village for socks and underwear? What about going to movies and buying new music? What about receiving gifts? Can I paint my apartment? Can I consume things that are fairly traded or made locally? What about art supplies?

The questions and gray areas abound. Obviously underconsumption is a complicated business, so key to the project is exploring where the plan gets tricky or downright impossible, and what creative means exist to address the challenges. The goal of this project is not asceticism. Rather, it’s about becoming increasingly aware of and creative in my actions, and continually learning how to become more conscious of how I consume. With that in mind, here are some basic guidelines I’ve come up with to start:

1. Participate in the secondhand economy as much as possible. (Exceptions include food and self-care items such as soap, shampoo, etc., though I intend to be as aware as possible of production and packaging.)

2. When consuming, take the following approaches as often as possible: reduce, reuse and recycle, in that order. Trade, share and buy locally to boot!

3. Consuming self-care services or learning opportunities (massage, classes, gym membership, etc.) is OK, though I intend for them to be purchased or traded fairly.

4. Consuming culture (live music, theatre, etc.) is OK. (For now I’m including movies in this category, though I recognize that consuming Hollywood is problematic…)

5. Focus on building knowledge to support the practice of underconsumption. (E.g., how can I learn to better care for the belongings I already have, in order to have to replace them less frequently? Building and sharing a body of knowledge to support a lifestyle of underconsumption is an important aspect of the project.)

6. When Subverting Overconsumption gets hard or impossible, write about it and talk about how and why, and what can be done.

So that’s how this project will start. How it will end is anyone’s guess, but I invite you to stayed tuned, give suggestions, get involved and tell your friends. Until next time, buy nothing.

xox n