Pleasures of real shopping

Shoppers are now being encouraged to get what they want from online sites. No need to brave the traffic, pollution, rain-clogged streets and pavements taken over by hawkers with laden carts. Stay at home and just click, choose, pay, and await your packaged delivery!

I've never thought of myself as much of a shopper, hating the thought of leaving the comfort of my home to go in search of matching buttons or borders to lend aesthetics to what stays an ordinary outfit without those little embellishments. But even for me, the thought of online shopping seems to miss out on something vital — the vibrancy of the street (or the mall), the aching feet, the entire experience of an exhausting shopping trip, even if it only window shopping!

Somewhere around the time when we were chronically broke, with just about a rupee between three friends (in times when a rupee could buy a couple of Cokes plus a bit more) I discovered the joys of window shopping.

Faded jeans were fashionable even then, but shredded ones weren't, and ours were threadbare (we owned only one each through our entire college careers), so we were obviously too broke to be welcomed into any shops by eager salespeople. Salespeople weren't eager either. It was still a seller's market and selling wasn't aggressive. It hadn't yet reached the level of a religion of sorts and the stray salesgirls and salesmen we caught sight of didn't seem welcoming at all. So we kept a safe distance, not even daring to press our noses against the shop window as we had when we were younger and were told to stay outside while mother went in and decided what we needed.

The pleasure of window shopping lay in the dream of being able to afford at sometime in the future some of those gems we eyed now. There are still some things that I feel I'd love to have — the wonderful dancing girl book ends that I yearn to own even if I hide all my books in cupboards away from covetous eyes; the thick silver bangles that would jingle-jangle and weigh my wrists down but I still want to have the feel of; the ethnic mirror-work skirt and blouse I couldn't wear then or now; the coffee mugs that I want to hold for their warm earthy-looking exterior even if I'm not a coffee drinker....

Thrilling

How thrilling was the day I found that I looked well off enough to actually enter those shops and browse through the contents at close quarters! I discovered that shop windows had the most attractive items on display, but hidden away inside were treasures that actually had me reaching for my purse before better sense prevailed. I was still on a strict budget — no frills, girl, stick to the basics, I told myself, as I walked out more disappointed than the unhappy shopkeeper that I had given in to reason!

Can a stay-at-home shopper experience that combined assault on the senses that being inside a shop gives? How does one know exactly what one wants just by looking at a catalogue — without touching, without comparing, without a look in the mirror to see which colour suits one better.

True, an online shopper may never get carried away by live sales talk, may never buy something just because the rest of the gang is getting it only to have it lie forgotten in a cupboard thereafter, but for every time that happens, the hands-on shopper at least has the joy of the memory of the day it was bought!

Precious memories don't come easy and for a generation still wary of anything to do with a click of a mouse, how can they be created online?

Cheryl Rao is a journalist based in India.