Am I addicted to on-line shopping?

I don’t get out much to go shopping, or indeed do more than a dash to the supermarket, so internet shopping has an appeal. It is so easy with my laptop to browse for anything I want from the comfort of my armchair. It is so easy. Stuff is so cheap, and returns are a doddle – sometimes I have ordered something that doesn’t work or doesn’t fit, and is so cheap they don’t want it back! How cool is that? I have stuff that I can give away! No hassling for carparking, no trying clothes on in an airless cubicle, banging my elbows, no other shoppers jostling for the till, no having to go out in that burning sun. Goodness me, I could even do it from the edge of the pool, feet dangling in the cool water, under the shade of a parasol if I wanted to.

This year, I needed summer clothes. New dress? I type in the heading, and woosh! I am bombarded with colours, fabrics, special deals, and even things I wasn’t interested in buying. Hours were spent trolling sizes and reviews, sometimes getting side-tracked into looking at things I had casually hovered over 6 months ago, but oh yes, they have remembered - and like a dodgy salesman in the Kasbah whipping out a bale of silk and promising a dress in 3 hours, I am hooked. I guiltily buy stuff for myself, then feel I should buy something for The Husband, and before I know it, a ‘genuine cotton shirt just perfect for wearing with shorts’ is winging its way to him, but ‘only 10 items left, so hurry! Buy now! Don’t be disappointed - you won’t see this offer again!’

Addictive

I am shocked to read that, yes, internet shopping can be classified as a type of behavioural addiction. Me? Never! I don’t even smoke, for heaven’s sake. But I quote: ‘this shopping addiction is characterised by a compulsive urge to shop online to cope with negative emotions, leading to problems with finances and personal relationships. The ease, accessibility, and dopamine rush associated with online purchases contribute to the potential for this behaviour to become problematic’. (Well, I wouldn’t say it had gone that far).

I admit, sometimes I think half the fun is researching the item I want, trying to find the exact thing I am looking for, imagining how cool/fun/attractive/unique/interesting I'll look. I pop it into my virtual shopping basket, and if I don’t complete the purchase within a day or two, it goes down in price! Wow! How exciting is that?

I kid myself that all this started during Covid, when we couldn’t get out to shop, but I must now try to curb this apparent addiction. I promise myself that I will unsubscribe from promotional emails, delete saved payment information and shopping apps, and definitely have a waiting period before impulsively hitting the ‘buy’ button.

But promises are made to be broken, aren’t they? I will try to learn to skip over that email promising me a special discount if I can find the right upturned cup with the coin hidden underneath it. And ignore the email that says: ‘I regret to inform you Mrs…… that the item you put in your shopping basket is nearly sold out’.

I am guessing it is the equivalent of catalogue shopping years ago, when those whopping great catalogues would sit on the table, just asking you to look at ladies’ corsets or men’s twill trousers or gloves in real fake leather.

You don’t always get what you pay for!

And you know, I just don’t learn. I see these jokey items on Facebook of what was offered for purchase online and what was actually received. I see dresses that look like they were stitched together by a five-year-old with a blunt needle, and walking boots that were probably too small for Barbie herself. Heck, in an unguarded moment, I once was a victim myself.

But I have to add that I have been pleasantly surprised too, when something arrives that actually fits, works and matches the description.

I live in hope.

Marilyn writes regularly for The Portugal News, and has lived in the Algarve for some years. A dog-lover, she has lived in Ireland, UK, Bermuda and the Isle of Man. 

Marilyn Sheridan