Minimal Monday: Consumption and Community

When I de-stashed my stash last weekend, this made the cut:

A one-of-a-kind skein, purchased from an independent dyer who offers a monthly yarn "club" and has a big Ravelry fandom. Her shop updates always result in a flurry of oohs and aahs as people post their purchases and project plans. Listening to this ball of yarn got me thinking about my experiences with consumption-as-community.

Online, I've visited (and participated in) groups where members "show-and-tell" purchases, whether artisanal yarn or luxury accessories. For me these groups were a breeding ground for FOMO so I stopped logging on. But I at least respect the directness of their premise: We're here because we like the same stuff, not to solve the healthcare crisis.

I tend to be a solo shopper, so in the real world I've mostly experienced consumption-as-community at direct sales "parties." Visiting "consultants" hawk cookware, baskets, scrapbooking supplies, clothing, or makeup at the home of a "hostess." I'd usually go to these out of a sense of duty.

CAbi

Pampered Chef

I last went to a sales party in 2014. As the consultant gave the spiel about empowering women and preserving service and quality, what previously seemed disingenuous but harmless felt creepy. (And not in a fun, quilt-guild-marital-aids-party kind of way. Connecticut, circa 2003.)

When the consultant asks if anyone has questions, it's generally understood that no one will say: "Are you ever resentful of assuming disproportionate risk?" Or, "Do you think this business model exploits people's need for belonging?" It's also understood that guests will buy something.

 But hey, I attended of my own free will, and to be fair, I do love my Measure All. I love my yarn, too, even if my monitor's color settings betrayed me. The commercial contexts in which I purchased them could not be more different--but my motives were eerily similar.