My advice for anyone doing a shopping ban

Be mindful of how you begin

First editions of the hardcover + paperback in English, and a handful of translations of THE YEAR OF LESS (I’m missing 5 and would love to have them all one day!)

Hi friend,

It’s hard for me to believe this, but 2014 marks ten years since I first setup the personal experiment that changed the trajectory of my life. What started as an idea to get some control on my spending and save more money turned into a successful experiment (and successfully documented experiment) that went viral and led to my first book deal (for THE YEAR OF LESS).

That experiment was, of course, a yearlong shopping ban: a challenge to not buy anything for a year, unless I absolutely needed it. No clothes, no shoes, no books, nothing for my home. I did it—for a full two years, in fact. I learned a lot and saved a lot of money. And then, as a true surprise to me, I even got to earn some money from writing a book about it. But the ban also changed my relationship with shopping in a way I couldn’t understand after, and can probably only begin to explain now that nearly a decade has passed.

Namely, it left me in a state of feeling as though buying things was bad. And that is simply not true.

Before I share more, I want to be clear that I don’t regret doing the shopping ban. I also don’t think they are a bad idea—and there are many reasons you might design one for yourself, and for any length of time that feels right for you. Mine helped me hit pause on my spending, which gave me the time and space to begin reflecting on why I used to make so many impulse purchases. Fundamentally, I learned that overspending was a coping mechanism to avoid difficult feelings. This is also why I drank too much, ate too much, and lived in front of a TV for so many years (each of these topics is outlined in the book). I didn’t want to feel my feelings, so I would quickly do things to take me away from them¹.

This was an invaluable lesson, in and of itself—and I have the shopping ban to thank for that. Every time I thought about buying something, I would stop and consider why. The ban created space for me to sit with difficult feelings for the first time, and let them pass through me without needing to fix them. It was like my own little mindfulness practice. The fact that I saved money, finally got to spend some on travel, etc. were bonuses. And, it also kind of damaged my relationship with buying things. Specifically, it left me stuck in a state of restriction/deprivation.

By the time I was done the shopping ban, I saw almost everything as non-essential. And in all the years since, I’ve noticed that I find it a lot easier to talk myself out of buying things than simply letting myself buy what I want. (Often, I don’t even let myself get to the “I want that” stage. I’ll talk myself out of almost anything, or even return things within days of buying them.) You might not think this is a bad way to live. Not buying things has resulted in saving money. And it certainly reduces the amount of waste I could be creating in this world. But it can also feel extremely limiting. And it doesn’t feel like I’m making “responsible” or “sustainable” choices, but am rather making a choice about the worthiness of a purchase—through the questions of: is it worth it? (I can always find a reason to answer no) as well as the sadder version, am I worthy/deserving of this?

Before the shopping ban, I didn’t sit with the first question. I never questioned if a purchase was worth it. I could come up with a justification for anything I wanted to buy or spend money on! However, when it comes to the second question, I do think I’ve always been prone to restricting/depriving myself. In fact, I think this is one of the reasons the shopping ban became so easy for me to complete and then carry on with. It’s more natural for me to operate from a place of feeling unworthy vs. deserving.

While working on THE YEAR OF LESS, I remember my editor asking if I could include an example of a time when I bought something to celebrate myself. She said it’s something lots of people did, so it would be relatable. But I couldn’t relate to that. I couldn’t write about an experience like that, because that’s not something I do. Celebrating myself does not feel easy or natural. Listening to my tyrannical inner critic² and punishing myself does.

Recently (and with some inspo from the work

Dana Miranda

does on Healthy Rich) I’ve been exploring the comparison between the shopping ban and the diet cycle. I imagine we’re all aware of the psychology behind why diets don’t work, and why we remain stuck in those cycles. We (1) restrict/deprive ourselves of something, then (2) consume it in an unhealthy way, then (3) feel bad about our choices. Repeat, repeat, repeat.

When I look at this cycle, I can see how I operated in the past. I would often attempt to restrict myself from things (like alcohol and certain foods), eventually binge on them, then feel ashamed. That shame made me want to punish myself, and the cycle would eventually begin again.

With the shopping ban, the result has been a little different but is still part of the same cycle. I have never gone back to being the overconsuming impulse spender I once was. Instead, depriving myself has resulted in underconsuming (not buying things) and then feeling embarrassed about not having enough. It is not uncommon now for me to feel as though I’m under-resourced in some way (with my limited wardrobe, things you might need around the house, or things that would help me feel more prepared on my hikes, adventures, etc.) and to feel embarrassed or uncomfortable being seen in this way—sometimes, to the point that I decline invitations and feel I can’t do certain things I might want to. This is a new part of myself that I’m starting to explore, and want to actively make shifts around. But overall, it doesn’t feel like a healthy approach to spending. And I don’t blame the shopping ban, but I do believe the problem lies in how I started it: feeling as though I wasn’t being good with my money, and restricting/depriving myself as a way to teach myself a lesson.

AKA, punishing myself.

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THE YEAR OF LESS was first released in January 2018, and has resurfaced as a popular book every year in January since. I started my own experiment in July, but I understand the appeal of setting this up as a resolution or goal for a calendar year. January, then, is also the month I get the most new followers every year… and the most questions from people who have just read the book and are thinking of doing a shopping ban (or spending ban, or no buy year, or no spend year, etc.) of their own. If that’s you, yes, I do have a few pieces of advice.

First, I would still suggest a few of the basics from the book. Things like:

• unsubscribe from all retailer newsletters (If you need to buy something from them, you can go to their website. You probably won’t miss an important sale, because things always go on sale again.)

• unfollow all retailers/brands on social media (Same lesson here, with the goal of reducing how much marketing you see. You already know which brands you like. If you need something, you will know where you find it.)

• instead of making the goal no shopping, consider any other changes you could make so that you simply stop browsing. (This was the biggest habit I changed, overall, and I am grateful for that.)

• and tell people you trust, and who you think you could have open and honest conversations with about your experiences. (Being able to process, share, and feel validated all helps us retain what we are learning.)

Honestly, these feel like good practices for life (and for your money)—not just for people wanting to change their relationship with shopping. But if I could only give one piece of advice to readers who are thinking of doing a ban of some kind, I would now say: before you begin, make sure you’re not starting from a place of punishing yourself. You’re not a bad person for shopping, and you’re not a bad person for wanting things. You’re also not a bad person if your spending habits have left you with little savings or gotten you into debt. (And debt is morally neutral! But more on that another day.)

There are all kinds of reasons you might want to try a shopping ban, and all kinds of ways you can tailor it to your individual goals and values. Maybe you want to see if you can live without Amazon Prime (so you just put a ban on Amazon and see how you shop for things without it). Maybe you want to spend some time using up everything that’s already in your home, and not buy more until you run out (so you write an inventory and keep track. I learned a lot about how much I actually use, by doing this!). Maybe you want to save a specific amount of money for a goal (so you cut out a couple expenses and manually redirect those amounts into a savings account for a few months, then reassess). Maybe you just want to hit pause and try to understand why you make some of the decisions you do (though you might want to dig a little deeper and look at what’s under the surface, perhaps with the help of a professional). The list of examples could go on and on, and they are all fine!

Just remember that a full-blown ban isn’t the only way to reach your goal. It’s a thing you can try, and you can definitely learn things and even save money, if the parameters are right for you. But don’t start one because you think you’ve done something wrong and need to restrict/punish yourself. It won’t help you in the long-term. It will keep you in the cycle.

Personally, I can’t imagine I’ll do a shopping ban ever again. (As evident by this letter, I wouldn’t need to lol.) I’d just like to get out of this cycle for good, and figure out what it actually feels like to be a mindful consumer—who feels comfortable buying what she wants. Any sign of wanting to restrict/deprive myself of something is now a sign that I’m off track.

That’s something I’ll be paying attention to.

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I’m curious: have you ever attempted to do a shopping ban? Did you feel it was successful (why or why not, and how did you measure success)? And is there any advice you’d give to people who are thinking about doing one for the first time?

1. With more time and therapy, I’ve learned these were probably also ways for me to disocciate from my reality. Overspending/impulse spending can be a trauma response—and potentially links back to complex PTSD. This information has helped me further reflect and understand more about my history with money, debt, lack of savings, etc.

2. https://pete-walker.com/shrinkingInnerCritic.htm