I generally consider myself an optimistic person, and, like most people, I think I had high hopes for 2021.
The year didn’t start with a massive bang for us, but it did with two movies, which I always consider a good start of the year.
However, four days into the New Year, Boris Johnson (BJ) announced yet another national lockdown, which wasn’t that surprising.
The next day after the announcement, we learned we needed to buy a new car seat for baby M because the one we had lent out had been returned to us broken, though none of the people who used it before even bothered to tell us. (What the hell, peeps?)
Our dishwasher broke down on January 6th, and even though we are waiting for the repair wizard to do his magic, we might need to replace it sooner rather than later.
This morning (I’m writing this on January 9th), our car’s engine started flashing, and it wouldn’t start. Luckily, the insurance sent a really nice lad who jump-started the car, gave Big M. a few tips, and maybe, just maybe, we only need to replace the battery.
I have to say that none of the obstacles above had fazed me. I wasn’t panicking, I wasn’t worried, and I wasn’t scared that we didn’t have enough money to cover all the unforeseen expenses.
However, that wouldn’t have been the case if I had only seen money through my consumer’s eyes. Because I managed to shift my perception of money and what it can really offer, I kept my spending low and savings pretty high compared to what I used to do.
Still, I have a long way to go to align my consumerism with environmental standards.
Global overconsumption needs to go, and it’s not a choice anymore but a necessity if we want to leave this planet habitable for our kids and grandkids.
To meet my new sustainability goals, I decided to explore ways to transform my household into a more sustainable home.
Plastic waste — reduce plastic waste in any possible way. I’m going to start with my bathroom. I’ve been slowly replacing plastic, non-recyclable toothbrushes, soaps and creams. But I know I need to push even harder. This year I plan to replace all the everyday products I have in the bathroom, either with reusable containers or find substitute products in glass containers.
I’ve been using the Ecover refillable bottles for years. However, finding local shops that carry those products at affordable prices is still hard. I hope it will change this year, so I won’t have to consider the price only. Ecover should do much more to make refillable stations accessible and affordable to the general public. How can refilling one container be more expensive than buying a new product in a new plastic container? Ecover, you need to step up!
Plastic waste in the kitchen is my worst enemy. We eat lots of fruit, and most of it, for some unknown reason, comes in extra plastic packaging in the UK. Over the past few months, I’ve been buying more loose fruits and veggies. The supermarkets are also changing; it’s a slow one, but finding loose kiwis, lemons, mangos, or pears is becoming more common.
Despite those efforts, I still end up with plastic from other fruits and veggies.
My most pressing need right now is to buy reusable wraps instead of cling film, which I hate, but my hubby seems to have a love affair with.
We mostly cook ourselves, so we hardly ever buy takeaway or ready-made food. However, if we buy ready-made food, it has to come in a recyclable box. Luckily, many shops have started offering that option.
Fix it — last year, I bought zero clothes for myself. Z E R O. Sure, I bought clothes for my children, but nothing for me. I got some bits for Christmas but didn’t go to shops to hunt for bargains. Instead, I decided to tidy up all my clothes at my parents’ house. I’ve been sending clothes to my parents for years because they have space. But when I finally displayed all the clothing on the floor, I wanted to cry, thinking about all those amazing experiences I missed out on because I spent money on a garment that I hardly used, which only created clutter and gathered dust.
I’ve decided to stop buying; I adopted the clothes I previously thought were out of style (Duh…). I gave some bits to friends, but most are still waiting for redistribution.
This experience made me wonder why we instantly discard our clothes instead of mending them, even when some are our favourite pieces. My granny used to mend clothes all the time, and everyone’s granny did, too, when I was growing up.
So, in the spirit of change this year, I’m going to fix my beloved cardigan, which has a few tears but is in no way ready to be disposed of. I remember when, in primary school, they tried to teach us how to fix and mend things, but I was too busy with teenage life to learn.
Luckily, YouTube will indeed show me the way.
Also, I will repurpose clothing that isn’t good enough to give away. If you have any inspiration or ideas for that, please share.
Minimalist life choices—I started embracing that philosophy early in my adult life, but it still didn’t save me from making lots of bad decisions. I always preferred to spend more money on good-quality goods, such as clothing and kitchenware. But at the same time, I stupidly bought into Gap every time they had something on sale, and they often did.
Minimalistic life choices allow people to focus more on quality than quantity. Focusing on longevity should be our priority. Yes, of course, cheap throwaway goods might be fun, but they don’t help anyone; charities cannot sell them, and often they’re unrecyclable.
I like having clothes and house/kitchenware that last for longer than a season, and I don’t care what the fashion influencers say about trends; just be aware of who pays them.
More people should start to buy for life, not for fashion. If you feel pressured to buy and spend, wait a day or two before deciding. The urge will more often than not pass.
I will surely make 2021 count as a conscious consumer. I don’t want my short time on Earth to be masterminded by marketers from offices in Paris, London or New York.
PS. I’m made by Made by Dyslexia, so expect small typos and big thinking.
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