Comparison, that thief.
What happens when you realise that your 'ideal' life/house/wardrobe is just an unrealistic one you've internalised (from a screen)?!
The initial intention of this piece was to discuss the impact of social comparison, and being ‘influenced’ (whether intentionally or not) by the lives of others that we see (or rather, the parts of life chosen to be shared). And what happens when you realise that you’ve been consuming and internalising such content for years, which on the surface seemed very light, engaging and aesthetically pleasing to the eye “Look at my new outfit”, “Here are the after shots of our freshly renovated house”, but which might actually be contributing to a widening gap between the life we ‘think we can have and aspire to’ versus the cold hard truth of what our physical, emotional, financial and social resources will actually sustainably allow. Particularly from the point of view of generations (millennials and more recent) that may actually struggle to achieve what many of our parents and grandparents achieved.
This will still largely be the focus of this piece, but I could not ignore the even deeper, darker, and frankly more sinister links that I started to make (or rather needed to be reminded of), and which in 2025 seem very bloody clear. This being that comparison (particularly materialistically) leads to desiring, which leads to wanting (that feels like needing), that leads to purchasing/consuming, which leads to sharing, which leads to further comparing… and so on. Until what we end up with is an overconsumption problem that is *literally* burning down our earth. It’s here.
As I have watched footage of fires ravage parts of Australia, Los Angeles, Ghana (I’m sure I’ve missed somewhere) this week, seeing people I know evacuate, I once again had the thought that ‘stuff doesn’t really matter’. Let’s face it, amongst the terror that is being asked to evacuate a home, ‘stuff’ is not going to save us, and other than people, pets and important/ sentimental items (and associated memories), most of it will not be overly memorable in a year/replaced by something else. While rationally knowing this in theory to be true, my body was still having this ‘oh no, what if I lost all my things, how devastating’ micro panic response. Of course it was.
Decades of clever marketing (now even more accessible, unprompted and insidious) has shaped my attachment to and the value I place on ‘things’ and that is very much the point (it’s intentional). Rationally, I, like many others have known this for a long time so have tried hard to push back on this drive to buy and become attached to material goods. However, there also remains that part of my brain that really does like to see the images of design-ready spaces, pretty outfits and voluminous, organised bookshelves that are abound on platforms like Pinterest and Instagram.
Inherently, there’s nothing wrong with this - i.e looking at an image and finding it nice or joyful or inviting, or perhaps giving us inspiration and ideas of how we could use our existing things or support small makers, to create our own version of that outfit or space. However, if that same image is a paid ad with a direct-to-purchase link, for an item we don’t actually need, made by a person paid appalling low wages and with materials that probably will never bio-degrade, whilst simultaneously not be of a quality to last a lifetime… then that is a problem.
Now, some of you will be reading this and nodding, or maybe even eye rolling at me, and thinking ‘well, duh there’s nothing new being written here we’ve known this for years’. However, as sustainability and climate experts and documentaries like ‘Buy Now’ are now warning us (with immediate urgency!), knowing something and doing something are two very different things.
We also…easily forget . One day’s vow to not buy any more clothes this week/month, met with a well timed and very clever ad marketing to me the perfect gingham pattern dress (because yes my phone does knows that this is one of my favourite prints!)… and voila a new seed is planted. And, even though I am not personally an impulse buyer (as I am incredibly indecisive, a natural overthinker and quite fussy), this potential purchase will still haunt my every thought for the day(s).
Again, clever…and intentional.
Once upon a time, the ‘exposure’ to such a ‘dress’ would only have happened if I saw it on someone (and had the guts to ask them its source); went on an actual physical ‘shopping’ day and spotted it (which to be honest was likely a monthly/twice-monthly occurrence at most growing up and the most exciting days!); or circled it as a ‘potential purchase’ in a catalogue delivered in the mail (one of my favourite childhood hobbies). Arghhh the nostalgia, and yes, I really have always loved clothes and homewares. So, whilst these processes still involved being exposed to items and potentially consuming them, the frequency of exposure was much, much, much less than it is now. My brain was only used to this very occasional, every now and then dopamine hit. Now, it always wants more, and it wants it often.
The same often applied to our homes and interiors, you might have got ideas or a bit of home ‘envy’ visiting a friend’s place, reading a magazine or visiting a display shop/department store, but that is kind of where it stopped. Yes, I was still very much left yearning for a purple painted feature wall in my bedroom at like 8 years old, because my friend had coloured bedroom walls (mum said no obviously and I now I really get why ha!), but I wasn’t being reminded of how my room was not ‘cool’ enough every waking moment.
Comparison and ‘wanting’ is indeed not a new phenomenon. Although I have largely been talking about the impact of ‘curated’ and ‘targeted’ visual social media platforms and the influence of this content on our desires, wants and purchasing patterns, social comparison has in fact always been a thing, it just wasn’t so ‘online’ and as ‘readily accessible’ previously.
Humans for centuries have always tended to compare themselves in an upwards (aspiring to be), downwards (looking down on) or lateral (about the same) fashion to others (See Leon Festinger and Social Comparison Theory). Social upwards mobility or increasing/transversing to a different social class, seen as admirable too, if one could achieve it.
So, to this end, am I saying that all consuming is bad, or that we can never buy another thing again, or that taking pleasure in “nice” things is all inherently wrong? Well no, of course not. Especially if those things have been procured or gifted with thought, sourced lovingly, and purchased ideally from a small business (and opposed to a multinational corporation), and then used and valued until they disintegrate (in hopefully years) or can be handed down/sold second hand.
However, our behaviour around consuming (particularly speed of consumption and disposability of items) must change, it has to. We cannot close our eyes or turn away any more, and even if we do, well the fire is literally and metaphorically going be at our doors one day. And that’s not the time then to say ‘if only’.
And yes, privilege absolutely comes into this conversation. I am not blind to the fact that to even be invested in the design aesthetic of your home interior that you do indeed have to have secure housing and the time/money to spend on decorating a “cosy” space. That to buy a well-made item from a truly sustainable brand or invest in a piece to keep for a lifetime, requires the financial means to do so. However, we also need to think about who loses in this conversation.
Most of us truly do have the means to not support fast fashion by simply buying less and thinking about where we are spending our coins when we do and there’s choice (baring in mind that finding clothing in larger sizes from smaller sustainable brands and in the second hand market is not easy). Those that truly do not have the economic means may still need to look for cheaper items, but they are also unlikely to be spending what little money there is on constantly acquiring new clothes or things. Ultimately, we also have to think about the lives of those who make these ‘things’, many of whom earn very, very little and live in true poverty.
As Aja Barber says in her book ‘Consumed’ (highly recommend) if many of us pooled the money we spent on fast fashion or impulse purchases each week/month, we could probably afford to buy an item that’s been lovingly created to last, quite a few times a year. Investing in second hand is also another option, but here’s the catch… fast fashion items are not made to last that long, so the many that are donated to charity stores or that we attempt to sell online for cheap are getting ultimately ‘recycled’ (a.k.a dumped somewhere else in the world, and made someone else’s problem, polluting the environment along the way).
All in all, I am hoping this essay does not come across as me lecturing you, because believe you and me, I am just as stuck in this ethical mess, as much as the next person. My consumption patterns have improved markedly but they are still very much a work-in-progress. One thing I will be trying to do for myself though, is to stop comparing, to notice when it’s happening and nipping it in the bud. Trying to remember and remain headstrong on the fact that buying that item to emulate that style or lifestyle, will not in fact make me feel better, and will not stop the worst from happening (in fact, it will add to it).
When the fires come, the ‘things’ won’t matter, so for those of us who can, why not work to stop them from igniting?
See you next week.
Camilla x
(And for anyone directly impacted by any of the literal fires current ravaging the world, I am sending my love, and hoping you have found temporary safety).