Filthy Commerce

An outlet for all your retail impulses

While hunting for links to fill out my latest Dollars & Sense post, I came across this M.P. Dunleavy article on the rip-off potential of outlet malls. Oh, outlet malls. Why nobody's set a retro-80s movie in an outlet mall as a way of commenting on the socioeconomic tenor of the times is a mystery to me.

A $45 Thanksgiving? Wal-Mart's got it for $20

O, excitement! We just finalized our Thanksgiving menu ...

The Frugal Consumer (2008-2009)

The Frugal Consumer's lifetime was brief, yet eventful and filled with contradictions.

Isn't it obvious that I need to relax?

Oh, day spas!

Well, hello, world!

I've been on vacation for the last week-and-change, and since I had to write ahead on the paying blog gig, this one got the short end of the stick.  But I wanted to let you all know I hadn't forgotten you, and to leave you all with three quick hits and a piece of advice.

Hit #1: "Blue Chip, White Cotton: What Underwear Says About the Economy" (WaPo, Aug 31, 09) postulates that just as women have the lipstick index for These, Our Challenging Economic Times, so too do the menfolk -- their underdrawers. When men space out the replacement purchases, it's a reflection of economic insecurity. Sadly, there's nothing in the article postulating on what percentage of men's underwear sales are actually made by women.

Hit #2: "J. Crew: Required Reading" (Mine That Data, Aug 30, 09) is one man's takeaway from the most recent earnings call, and it's a fascinating look at how J. Crew is positioning itself strategically. Here's a hint: former Gap CEO Mickey Drexler is not falling into the "Everything on sale! AIEEEE!" strategy.

Hit #3: "Target vs. Walmart: The Next Phase" (BW, Aug 18, 09) points out that Walmart managed to clean up during These, Our Challenging Economic Times precisely because it was positioned as the leader in low prices, but Target's poised to suck up shoppers who are reluctantly scaling back their masstige-loving way of life.

And finally, the advice ... If you're ever so lucky as to make the pilgrimage to Powell's bookstore in Portland, Oregon, learn from my experience.

 First, do not get hopped up on Voodoo Doughnut's finest offerings before going in, because the sugar rush will make your eyes oscillate for half an hour. This greatly impedes efficient browsing.

Second, print out your wishlist ahead of time. Even better, nerd it up, take advantage of Powell's little "Where to find this on the shelves" feature on the website, and make a spreadsheet of which coveted books will be where. I was running around the store trying to load Powells.com on my iPhone so I could remember which odd-ducky books I wanted, and halfway through, it hit me that a little prep could have gone a long way.

Third, resign yourself to lots of hostile weirdos in the aisles. Not reserved people of cultivated and eclectic tastes like you and I, of course -- I'm talking people who will look at you bug-eyed with loathing if you happen to reach for a sci-fi author they don't care for. It will go a lot easier for you if you do not look down at their armload of books, all of which feature descriptions like "Lucinda and her best friend Ravynne just opened a freelance white-witchery agency in downtown Salem ..." or "Bob had resented being turned into a vampire during his second tour in Iraq, but it gave him advantages as a civilian private eye ...", and just keep perusing the Vernor Vinge paperbacks in the desperate hopes that you can unwittingly be spirited away via the singularity. (Also, if you are like me and end up perusing the consumer-culture section, the odds of some tie-dyed baby boomer rolling their eyes at you in pure contempt are pretty good. Not even the presence of Barbara Ehrenreich's latest in your hand will save you!)

Not like I was greatly handicapped in my book browsing -- I did walk out with two grocery bags full of books. But boy, do I wish I had taken the time to prepare a list and shelf locations before going. And to maybe eat a breakfast that doesn't duplicate the effects of benzedrine. But those are small considerations -- Powell's is totally awesome, and if you're ever in Portland, go.

(Doughnuts above are: Devil's food with coconut, vanilla custard filled, and old-fashioned chocolate covered in Butterfinger pieces. Lethally delicious.)

Because I cannot leave this grocery thing alone

The beautiful thing about the Web is that it hosts all manner of goofy human stuntcraft. It also allows total strangers the opportunity to get competitive and lifestyle-y over every facet of human existence.

These phenomena collide in the aisles of the grocery store. We've now got blogs devoted to the One Dollar Diet (book pending in January 2010), the $5 Dinner (book also pending in January 2010) and now Eating Well on $50 a Week (no word yet on the book deal).

The last blog is sort of low-hanging fruit, as the rule is $50 per person in each household. And going by your comments, it is not hard to feed a married couple for $100 per week. In fact, doing so may be downright decadent.

I find it interesting that the latest iteration of foodie culture is trending toward old-fashioned home economics. Then again, given that A) so many people define themselves (consciously or subconsciously) via what they consume, and B) so many people have had to cut back on discretionary spending, I suppose that C) it was only a matter of time before people began channeling their quest for consumer validation into the one spending category that we all have no matter how rich or poor we may be.

The things I do for money

So part of the gig over at Dollars and Sense requires me to feature a daily bargain or deal. I've got 36 different deal-of-the-day-type sites and deal-aggregating sites on my RSS feed reader, and I usually end sifting through 700-plus individual entries to find at least one buy that's worthwhile.

And the rest of the time? I'm looking at offers like this one: A Borat Mankini with Moustache costume for $14.95 -- for a savings of a nickel.

The readers over the other blog were indifferent to the idea of featuring the "Who in the Hell would buy that?" daily feature. But if I see another five entries touting this deal -- as I did today -- I may snap and inflict them all on you.

The grocery games get grim for some

I read two different and interesting stories regarding brand loyalty and packaged goods this morning.

Something old, something new, something bargain, something blue

I can't even remember where I stashed my wedding dress -- no mean feat in a 832-square-foot house with only two closets, but I pride myself on achieving the improbable -- yet it's wedding season and there are a few articles on how brides are dealing with budgetary constraints on for this, Their Special Day.

"For Big Bridal Shop, Recession Is a Cake Walk" (The Big Money, June 11, 09) explains why David's Bridal is thriving:

The economic downturn could help David's Bridal capture even more market share. While the recession hasn't deterred couples from tying the knot, it has shrunk their budgets substantially. The average cost of getting married in the United States slipped in the first quarter to $19,212, according to the Wedding Report, a market research firm. That's down from $21,814 last year and $26,450 in 2005. [...] According to a recent survey, 55 percent of brides plan to spend no more than $600 on their dresses.

But for the bride who still dreams of a designer dress -- well, the Web is here to help. As the WSJ reported on June 4, 09 in "Pre-Altared: More Used Wedding Gowns Go Back on Market,"  the site Preownedweddingdresses.com has over 2000 listings for gorgeous, higher-end frocks.

Here's the story I want to see: whether there's a shift in wedding dress styles to reflect more austere budgets and sensibilities. Although the higher-end designers have cut prices (you can now grab a Lela Rose for only $3495), what I am curious about is whether retailers like J. Crew are cleaning up with their reasonably-priced and lovely dresses. Although I am amused to note that their pretty, $295 Sophia dress is buried in the middle of a bunch of $800-and-up selections. Always on the upsell, eh, bridal industry?

Self promotion: check me out over at the Big Money

I got really tired of reading frugality bloggers' cut-the-cable arguments, so I pitched a piece to the Big Money, and that is how "A Cheapskate Sports Fan's Guide" got written. Go read it! It includes actual reporting.

And you shall know us by the trail of our stuff

So much of it is the kind of stuff that is purchased in optimism, with a sense of brio perhaps -- a red velvet ottoman? Oh, yes, let's have one. Six months ago, All Seasons did six to eight evictions or foreclosures a month; now it's 30 to 40. It will slow for the holidays; All Seasons takes time off for Christmas.

The tyrannical time-suck of free shipping

A tale of time wasted:

I needed to get two Girl Scout handbooks, and because my local council is apparently under the impression that all volunteers associated with Girl Scouts do not have day jobs*, there is no way I can pick them up from the local Girl Scout store. So I went to order them off Amazon.com, and when the total for $21.49 came up in my shopping cart, so did a little tag noting that all I had to do was spend another $3.51 and I'd qualify for free Super Saving shipping.

Very well, I thought. I'll see what I can do.

My first stop was to go to the Amazon Filler Item Finder, a search engine that lets you type in the dollar amount you need, then spits out the results. I applaud the idea. The execution had two small flaws: There is a lot of crap that's priced at $3.51 and above, and the pricing isn't accurate. When I clicked on a wooden spoon that was allegedly selling for $3.95, the Amazon page had it priced at $4.99. My total order would have been $26.48 -- not exactly bank-breaking but not exactly the $25.44 that I would have preferred.

I futzed around looking for items that I wouldn't mind spending $3.51 on, when it hit me: my time was probably worth more than $3.51. Besides, I wondered, how much is the standard shipping going to be?

It was $4.98 -- a penny less than the only order-filler I wanted.

I'm sure there are people who would have rather had the spoon and the free shipping. However, I don't need a spoon. I needed the books, I need an uncluttered house, and I need to use my time productively.

It is true that shoppers love it when there is free shipping. But I'm thinking that occasionally, free shipping still costs too much.

Pinching the pennies until Lincoln screams for mercy

Amy VanDeventer has always been a cheapskate. The recession is taking her to new extremes.

Before the economy tanked, she was still wearing maternity clothes from her last pregnancy, clipping coupons and using hand-me-downs to dress her daughters, ages 2 and 3. Now, she's salvaging bagel scraps left on their plates for pizza toppings and cutting lotion bottles in half so she can scrape out the last drops.

"I was already cheap," said VanDeventer, a 36-year-old mortgage loan underwriter from Broomfield, Colo. "Now I am neurotic about it."

-- "Extreme Cheapskates: Tightwads Revel in Frugality," AP, Mar 10, 09

But do the the little luxuries add up?

In yesterday's "Americans Reach for Small Luxuries," the USAT reports that:

From food to fashion, potions to pets, entertainment to e-commerce, Americans are finding modest ways to both buoy their spirits and maintain, even in cut-rate form, a version of those old free-spending days.

But before you congratulate yourself on the frugality of your splurges ...

"It's a basic human trait to have indulgences in one's life, things that reinforce your identity and keep you moving forward," says Eric Almquist, head of global consumer insights at Boston-based consulting firm Bain & Company, which recently produced a study called The Consumer of the Future.

Almquist says the world of Hummer-like indulgences has vanished overnight, replaced by more modest spending habits that may prove a boon to some companies. He cites the example of a few individual chocolates in elaborate packaging; the consumer gets a small treat while the manufacturer can charge more per unit for the product.

I personally am of two minds about the small-splurges mindset. I think they can add up, and next thing you know, you're spending as much on myriad monthly treats as you would be on one big splurge. But I also think that small splurges provide an important psychological release valve: Being able to spend a little on something that's not entirely necessary can offset the feelings of deprivation that can then lead into a binge spending/scrimping cycle. It all comes down to how well you handle moderation and how willing you are to cry bull on your own self justifications.

Always look on the bright side of life

If I had mad xckd-type skills, I'd draw the line graph charting the tenor of consumers-in-the-grip-of-a-recession coverage. The arc can loosely be described as passing through the following phases:

Americans spend like [drunken sailors/ plucky heroines in a chick-lit novel/ pre-Revolutionary French demimondaines] and won't they be sorry: Someday. Any day now. The signs and portents foretell imminent doom!

Seriously, guys, things are not looking good for the over-leveraged middle class, especially if your entire division is suddenly circled in red on the corporate org chart: This is where the mainstream media begins running stories about uneasy workers, generational job shock and how we've all discovered coupons again.

Oh, sweet Christ, it's hailing bankers! Companies are dying off faster than polar bears! Surely the collapse of America is imminent: Okay, it's one thing for the little people to start buying generic, but when the moneyed are suddenly less so, we're all screwed. A little job anxiety, anyone?

What we are going through is going to make the Great Depression look like an afternoon case of the blahs: Now that everyone's reacquainted with the joys of class resentment and budgetary anxiety, let's fan the flames by running long, thinky pieces on how the very fabric of American society is about to be rewoven into sackcloth for the tough times ahead.

Ignore the eeyores -- always look on the bright side: This recession/depression/econopalypse is going to make us all better people. We'll spend less frivolously! We'll find the hidden opportunity in this great economic reshaping! We have dumped the old economy and are now hot enough to make them sorry for what they did to us!

Now, like the classic Kubler-Ross model for grief (denial, anger, bargaining, despair, acceptance), these stages are not necessarily linear -- today's "Surprising Upside of Being Downsized" can be tomorrow's "25 People to Blame for the Financial Crisis" or "25 People at the Heart of the Meltdown." But I'm wondering: is it time for us to stop wallowing in the "We're all doomed" mindset and start being plucky? Or would it maybe not hurt Americans to ease back on the blind optimism a little?

You guys come up with all the best topics!

In the preceding entry ("And now comes the 'Oh, HELL no' financial decisions"), commenters Max and Amanda both referenced grocery shopping habits -- Max noted that consumers aren't so keen on spending more for organic foods, while Amanda said she'll be putting her money where her mouth is.

I decided to do a little digging regarding what grocery-shopping patterns are likely to be like this year.

Whacking the couponers' hive with a big stick

One of the blogs I follow, USNWR's Alpha Consumer, had a post this week on a recent episode of Wife Swap in which a spendthrifty spouse and a coupon-gaming spouse swapped places. Kimberly Palmer cited the pros and cons of the coupon-gaming lifestyle, and that was that.

However, the comments are eye-opening.