Disgruntled Consumer

To go to the effort of getting a t-shirt made about your gripes means you must have been seriously let down...

Certainly a noticeable piece of mobile advertising and I'd like to argue, quite impactful too. It reaches a primary audience of friends and family, who likely trust the communication medium (him). Outside of the audience, because of the nature of the medium it doesn't intrude on anyone's else's space who sees it nor interrupt their preferred activities . It's authentic- you simply take it as his point of view and not an exaggerated brand promise you're persuaded to believe all in the name of profit-chasing. You actually want to ask more questions and engage with the communication. It got me in my local spar too- pretty targeted geographically and because of that, it somehow makes me a little more inclined to believe the integrity of the story behind it.

Confessions of a cop-out consumer or “prosumer”?

I’ve had to look at my own “consumer behaviour” quite critically and have noticed a slight inconsistency.

I’ll begin by reviewing my consumer profile. I could arguably be considered to fall into a comfortable middle-class financial- and lifestyle bracket. Looking at my history of access to education, my home life growing up and leisure activities, I am certainly what many would regard as privileged.

However, at my present life-stage and considering my financial position and its move towards complete autonomy, I believe I fall into a mass middle class bracket and subsequently, feel (and notice) the effects of a financial recession and the rising costs of living in the most basic areas: electricity, food and fuel. In fact, I grudgingly admit that I feel these things quite significantly. I also have to acknowledge that I have become acutely aware of the radical jump in price over the past two years of the most meaningless items, for example, a tin of tuna, a 4-pack of chicken breasts and a single roll of one-ply toilet paper.

I resigned myself to the fact that a shift from free-range chicken to no-living-conditions-mentioned chicken was necessary. Included in this, I gave up John West in favour of bland-packaged tuna and even accepted the fate of the cheapest one-ply toilet paper. Simultaneously, I despise the fact that I have no control over what I pay for things and very little knowledge as to why I pay what I do.

You’d think that with such conscious shifts (I’ve only mentioned a few) and a fervent distrust of my position as consumer, I’d be the type of person to make every effort to shop where prices are low and quality is lasting. I should be the person who actively shops for personal care and cleaning products at Shoprite (where I noticed they are slightly cheaper), but who buys her fresh produce from Pick n Pay because their longevity is more reliable, and hence more valuable than the few Rand discount Fruit & Veg City offers me. Essentially, I should be a discerning and cautious shopper with the objective of surviving, if not beating, The System.

I am (sadly) not.

While I have given up brand names in favour of cheaper, not-so-pretty-looking products, and while I do dig into the back of the fridge to ensure I find the milk with the most distant sell-by date, my efforts at being Miss-Conscientious-Consumer have been completely insulted by the fact that I shop at the Spar down the road where prices are noticeably inflated. I shop purely for convenience at the expense of price.

You may be thinking that I’m clearly exaggerating my financial situation and that in fact, I am a born-and-bred privileged consumer, who fakes fitting in with the masses, but who can actually afford to shop for convenience over value. The reality is that I cannot.

I shop for convenience because I cannot stand the Monday evening queues in Pick n Pay or their perpetual lack of items I tend to want or need. I loathe the fact that they have too few baskets for Monday night month-end shoppers. I despise the shop layout and that silly perpendicular section that creates traffic jams, especially with my superfluous trolley. I do not like walking down the stairs to my car with four full and heavy bags and I get quite upset when a week later, I realise that a person living alone should never have bought a month’s worth of fresh produce in the first place.

Alternatively, driving to Checkers or Shoprite is a hassle and parking is unpleasant, and shopping on a quiet Sunday is like sending me to Siberia to find inspiration and meaning in life.

Instead, while I am still brand- and quantity-conscious within my local Spar, I disregard their overall pricing strategy in favour of short queues, friendly staff, every random item I might need for my spontaneous cooking occasions or awkward cravings, a mostly guaranteed parking space, and the only outlet that seems to sell electricity (without complications or extra charges) for my block of flats.

I admit that convenience is expensive (and perceived to be a privilege), but the overall experience of convenience when I work and study and value the time in between, is priceless. Convenience may be considered counter-recession, but I do believe that it still holds on to the essence of “prosumerism”- i.e. the things that count to me.