How not to shop. Or Why do I hate shopping so much?
There is nothing in my size and colour and the heaving crowds put me off. My eyes get tired from looking at the range of clothes and useless items on display. I think of the poor girl/young lady/young man/boy paid a pittance for long hours of back-breaking, fine-finger work and I can't bear to part with money that would only fund the profligate lifestyle of the (often corrupt) owner/businessman who might just happen to be at the right place at the right time, or who network with the right people, or who have the means to make donations to certain political parties, or all of the above. There is no room in my wardrobe and until I throw out something that I have outgrown or needs replacing, I do not need another cheap jacket/blouse/skirt/pair of trousers, etc. And then only if I have the means to arrange for these to be recycled properly. Living simply does not mean living cheaply. It means learning how to spend one's money wisely. As an impoverished undergraduate I once bought