On ownership

I am content with what I own.

Apart from a tendency to buy satin knickers at Debenhams when I'm stressed (in a classically Freudian sublimation of the libido into the fetishization and pursuit of consumer goods -- see, if I say it like that it sounds like a fancier and more sophisticated problem), I have never been very excited about consuming. The anticipation, the shopping, the shiny newness are all nice, but I'd rather do other things with my time. And I feel uncomfortable when possessions are duplicates or if they are not exactly right. I am an extremely particular shopper, which makes most forms of shopping rather intense and tedious.

But I do love owning things. I love useful things, but I love beautiful things even more - and perhaps most of all, objects that are both useful and beautiful, like a Tuareg dining table or a perfect black handbag or an elegant pen. Marxists might suggest this is an extension of foolish consumerism, but the philosophy of the Arts and Crafts Movement is a more accurate lens. William Morris once said, “Have nothing in your house that you do not know to be useful, or believe to be beautiful” and I believe the ideal is for everything in one's house to be beautiful and useful. A certain gentleman friend of mine, for instance, exemplifies this in being both decorative and able to fix my website problems.

Ownership makes me feel rich, happy and content and I am sated with it. I have all the furniture, clothing, shoes, electronics, costumes, music and books I want. Student loans keep my account empty but I feel rich. I like the idea that all my extra money can now be spent on knowledge, that I can throw my earnings into dance classes rather than worrying about buying a new stove or boots that don't leak.