Where do you shop for clothes? How often do you shop? Is it medicinal, or is because you have an identifiable need? Do you shop ethically?

I’m a medicinal shopper. I’ve historically been pretty good at making it seem at least part of the time like it’s an identifiable need, but usually, it’s just because I’m stressed out and looking for a way to control my environment.

As a lady in my Late Thirties, I’ve become a bit of a snob with my shopping. I don’t remember how I discovered Anthropologie, but their quirky, European-inspired, artsy offerings appealed to me immediately. I had realized the cheaply made, fleeting styles of third party sellers on Amazon were often disappointing.

I started with Anthropologie’s hand towels. On sale, they are often around $10-14. Which is pretty expensive for a kitchen towel, but these aren’t your average kitchen towel. I turned one into a piece of wall art in the master bedroom.

I started eying their clothing.

I first bought a shirt a few years ago. It took some experimentation to get the sizing right. Anthro’s vanity sizing is pretty ridiculous. I wear a XS-S in their shirts, and a 26-27 inch waist pant. I’m not a 26″ waist girl. I’m a solid 29.” It doesn’t give me any joy to click on 26″ when I’m purchasing pants, because I know it’s a lie. I don’t even want or need it to be true.

But the clothes, once I figured out the sizing, were really, really nice. Especially the pants. Pants I’ve bought from Gap and Old Navy have been OK, but I usually have to add elastic to the waist to get the right fit without gaping, even when they are my size. Anthro pants just fit. They are flattering. They have interesting stitching details, pretty bias tape on the seams, and interesting fabric for the pocket linings. The clothes come in beautiful, rich colors that I haven’t been able to find anywhere else.

When I figured out they have sales regularly throughout the year, I got on their email list and it became a little bit of a habit. They sometimes ship faster than Amazon Prime, which with their prices, is dangerous. I’m ashamed to admit that I’ve purchased a few things full price in weak moments.

I’ve probably saturated my capacity for clothes of any kind, let alone Anthro clothes. It’s been a stressful spring, as usual. Remember how I hoped after my trip that my stress spending would decrease?

It did. But Spring is always really tough. Everything crescendos at once and my coping skills take a nosedive. My energy to complete the school year flags even before standardized testing season swings around. One could argue I started the last several school years already in burnout. All our extra curriculars seem to end like dominoes as the spring unfolds. We want to escape to Thatcher rather than keep our commitments.

So I scroll through Anthro’s pretty online shop and look for things in the colors and styles I honed from my Curated Closet work. I scroll through clearance hoping that they’re getting rid of some items that aren’t too ridiculous to wear. With Anthro prices, it’s a lot easier to avoid things that don’t match with my Curated Closet specifications, although I slip up from time to time (some of my rules include No Stripes, No V Necks, No Bold Colors, No Prints on Bottoms).

I go back and forth between feeling guilty for spending so much on one article of clothing, and telling myself that I will wear the piece for longer and more often than if it were ill-fitting and poorly made. Which is also better for the environment.

I tell myself with prices like that, the garments must be responsibly made. I did a brief internet search, and as usual, it doesn’t pay to assume. Anthropologie lacks transparency regarding both their business model and sourcing. In fact, my first clue that something was amiss was the many links referring to “ethical alternatives to Anthropologie” in response to my search query.

We live in an impossible world where the onus falls on the consumer when it comes to ethical trade. Companies can be as obtuse and unethical as they want. If their presentation is good enough, we probably won’t pause long enough to ask about their business practices and sourcing. This is one of the issues Rolheiser called out in his book The Holy Longing. In a world full of systemic sin, it’s so hard for individuals to make a difference on the micro level.

Woe to those who make unjust laws, to those who issue oppressive decrees, to deprive the poor of their rights and withhold justice from the oppressed of my people, making widows their prey and robbing the fatherless. What will you do on the day of reckoning, when disaster comes from afar? To whom will you run for help? Where will you leave your riches?

— Isaiah 10:1-3

And yet that systemic level sin isn’t an excuse for me to keep on buying Anthro or anywhere else if they don’t make their offerings ethically. I clicked through to some of the “ethical alternatives,” and my eyes were watering at the prices.

Every time I buy something I don’t need, (which for me is arguably nearly every item of clothing I buy), I’m reminded of those in our world dealing with poverty and scarcity on a level I can barely imagine. I think about my spoiled self sitting back and clicking purchase in a crazily privileged country where I’m not reminded of the desperately poor every day.

When I give to organizations that help the poor, it feels like it that will never be enough, especially if I spend more on Anthropologie than I do giving to the poor. And by enough, I mean enough to assuage my guilt for being rich. (I once heard a wise saying that if you have to ask if you’re rich, then you probably are. The poor KNOW they are poor.)

In Tobago, at major intersections near town, there are hustlers who have coolers full of cold drinks. When the light is red, they sell their wares. In a tropical climate, offering cold drinks is meeting a real need. And while you’re giving money to a guy on the side of the rode, he’s giving you something in return. One has the sense that he is working for it. And in the hot sun, he certainly is.

I’m pretty sure with permit requirements and the like, a business model like that would be illegal in the U.S. But that leaves us with the homeless guys at major intersections, not playing music, not offering cold drinks, just asking for money.

I don’t want to give money to these folks. It’s easy to assure myself that helping them by giving them money would probably just be enabling a substance abuse habit. I say to myself, why aren’t they sitting in a library using the free computers and WiFi to look for a job? Giving them money just perpetuates the idea that panhandling at intersections is more profitable than an honest living. And I know, I know, that there are so many other things interfering with a homeless person’s ability to get a job, the least of which are lack of transportation, interview attire, and a permanent address.

I’ve also just reduced a whole segment of people, “The Poor,” into one small subsection, “The Homeless,” and we could draw diagrams and make infographics about the limitations of that. Let’s suffice by saying my description is inadequate. The homeless people at main intersections in my community are the most frequent encounter I have with people who are obviously poor.

Give generously to [the poor] and do so without a grudging heart, then because of this the Lord your God will bless you in all your work and in everything you put your hand to. There will always be poor people in the land. Therefore I command you to be openhanded toward your fellow Israelites who are poor and needy in your land.

— Deuteronomy 15:10-11

In my RCIA class, we talked about the way we treat the poor and oppressed as being one of the primary measures by which we’ll be judged.

Sell your possessions and give to the poor. Provide purses for yourselves that will not wear out, a treasure in heaven that will never fail, where no thief comes near and no moth destroys. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.

—Luke 12:33-34

There’s also the zinger in Matthew that reminds us we’ll be judged by the same measuring stick by which we judge others (chapter 7, vs. 2). In my case, if you’ve been reading the blog for a little while, you probably have a sense of the way I judge, that is, often harshly.

I’ve enjoyed honing my personal style in the past few years. I finally like the way I dress and feel like it’s a good reflection of me. I hope a God of love wouldn’t begrudge us some personal expression, but I also know that if I’m thinking about it and writing about it (again), it’s probably time to consider a change in behavior and see what happens. The day I wrote this, I unsubscribed from Anthro emails.

That didn’t solve the problem. It did stop the Anthro spending. Instead, I spent my next month’s blow money somewhere else, and that’s another post.