January Sales: Will We Ever Learn?

What is it about the January sales?

As if we haven’t indulged enough over the festive season, we then find it near impossible to resist the allure of discount clothing.

Perhaps it’s the damaging blow our bank accounts face buying an endless stream of Christmas presents that makes us feel like saving 50 per cent on our next purchase is somehow evening the score.

For most of us, the discount tag acts as a hypnotic device, convincing us that we are in possession of an absolute bargain. Yet in most cases, we are entering a false state of discount delight. A state where the shopper is actually purchasing an obscure item of clothing that does not suit them, will never be worn, and will live out its days at the back of the wardrobe.

Sale rails in stores stand apart from the usual finger-spaced, neatly-folded, eye-pleasing displays. The disarray and anarchy of the discount shoppers leave the space resembling a teenager’s bedroom, with items of clothes littered over the floor and a mass of empty hangers left jotting out at various angles.

In this chaotic space, you will normally find only a small selection of last season clothes and mostly in the wrong size. The remainder tends to be stocks from years gone by. Optimistic items that every year are brought from the dark, dank stockroom, onto the bright promising shop floor, hoping to find a home.

These items conceal themselves as wardrobe must-haves and we are blinded by our discount goggles. The sale tag momentarily blinds us and before we know it, we’re walking out having splurged on a pencil skirt three sizes too big and a questionable summer dress we will not be able to wear for another two seasons.

A friend of mine once described sale shopping like a disappointing one-night stand. You stand alone, in a crowd of people all desperate to find that something special. You wade through, eager to find something that will give you a momentary burst of happiness and excitement. Then you come down from your discount high and face the sober reality of what you’ve gone home with. Something that is not so special and you’re glad to see the back of.

Will we ever learn?

Image by Mark Hillary courtesy of Flickr