Christmas Shopaholic(3)

And that spoke to me. In fact, it made me feel stricken with guilt. I should shop ethically. We all should! So I started a little habit—when I’ve been on a shopping spree I try to buy something ethical too. Like those people who buy trees to make up for flying on planes.

I log on to the Ethical Consumer Today site and peer at the home page. The only trouble is, I’ve already bought nearly everything from this site. I’ve got the beeswax candles and fair-trade coffee and all the yoga bracelets….

Wait. New product! Organic spicy falafel mix. Perfect! You can’t have too much organic spicy falafel mix, can you? I quickly order eight packets (free delivery), complete my purchase with one click, and sit back with satisfaction. I’ll tell Luke we’re going to have Falafel Night every Tuesday, which we should do anyway, because it’s healthy.

At the thought of Luke, I reach forward and increase the volume of my mindfulness meditation, and it’s just in time, because the door opens, right as the mindfulness guy is saying, “Let go of your worries.”

I turn round to Luke and give him a calm, mindful smile.

“Hi!” I say.

“I thought I’d give you a heads-up,” Luke says apologetically. “We need to leave for the restaurant in about fifteen minutes. How’s it going?”

“Good,” I say. “Really good.”

“You look radiant.” He surveys me admiringly. “Kind of, I don’t know. Serene. Content.”

“I feel content!” I beam back at him.

Three Denny and George scarves for ￡30 each! How could I not feel content? I’ll give one to Suze for her birthday and I’ll save one for Minnie….

“I’m so glad you’ve found this for yourself,” says Luke, dropping a kiss on my head. “I used to be skeptical about all this meditation business, but you’ve convinced me.”

“It’s just a question of applying your mind to what really matters in life,” I say wisely, as the doorbell rings.

Luke goes out to answer it and I hear a series of thumping noises from the hall. A few moments later the front door closes and Luke’s head reappears round the door.

“Some deliveries for you,” he says.

“Ooh!” I light up. “Deliveries!”



* * *



—

I love the way online shopping just comes to you. I hurry out to see three boxes and a plastic ASOS package in the hall. Excellent! I was hoping my ASOS delivery would arrive in time for this evening. I grab the package, slit it open with the scissors I keep in the hall for exactly this reason, and out slither four navy satin jumpsuits.

“Wow,” says Luke, staring down at the sea of navy satin. “That’s a lot of…whatever they are. Did you need that many?”

“I’m not going to keep them all,” I say, as though explaining remedial algebra to a fairly promising student. “You don’t keep them all. You try them on and keep one and send the rest back. And they were half price,” I add for good measure, ripping open the size 12 long and holding it up. “Total bargain.”

Luke is still frowning perplexedly. “But did you really need to order four?” he says.

“I didn’t know what size I needed,” I retort. “And I didn’t know if I needed regular or long. Don’t blame me, Luke,” I add, warming to my theme. “Blame poor sizing standards in the fashion industry, which penalize the innocent consumer.”

“Hmm. What about those eight cushions?” says Luke, his gaze turning to yesterday’s delivery, stacked against the baseboards. “Sizing issues there too?”

“I couldn’t see the colors properly online,” I say defensively. “I had to order them all to have a proper look. I’m only keeping two; I’ll send the rest back tomorrow. Free returns. And do you know how much I saved on them? Fifty-two pounds!”

“Becky, I would pay fifty-two pounds for our house not to look like a bloody depot,” says Luke, eyeing all the boxes and packages filling the hall. “All we need is a guy in a brown overall with a forklift truck.”

“Ha ha,” I say, rolling my eyes sardonically.

“And when are you going to send back those statues?” Luke gestures at the life-sized statues of Aphrodite and Hermes which are standing at the bottom of the stairs, still half-wrapped in brown paper. “We’ve had them a week. They’re grotesque!”

“They’re not grotesque,” I say defensively. “They’re avant-garde. And I can’t send them back, because they’re ethical.”

“Ethical?” Luke stares at me.

“They were made by a disadvantaged youth group,” I explain. “Upcycled from bicycle parts and fridge components.”

I have to admit, they’re pretty monstrous. And I didn’t realize they would be so big. But how can I send them back? If I do, the youth group will be devastated. All their self-esteem will vanish, and it will be our fault for not being open-minded about their statues.

“Well, they’re giving Minnie nightmares,” says Luke flatly. “I had to put a bag over Aphrodite’s head.”

“I think she looks more sinister with the bag over her head,” I counter. “She looks scary. She looks like a hostage.”