“When I’m sick, I can truly understand how one might accidentally slide into a cult.” Photo: Stock image via Getty
I was sick there recently, shivering under a mound of blankets in my disgusting, festering, sweaty flu nest (apologies to anyone eating while reading this) and I was on the verge of doing the thing I always do when I’m ill and trapped in bed: spending stupid money on Silly Billy Sh**eology. It’s a desperate habit I stumble into any time my temperature tips even a degree over my normal baseline.
Years ago, I bought clothes and household crap that I in no way needed. Then in 2018, I challenged myself to a year of buying no clothes. This wasn’t some incredibly inspiring feat of abstinence — at the time, I owned more than a dozen pairs of jeans due to being a toxic over-consumer. I could have easily retired from buying clothes altogether and would still have enough to wear until I died. The no-buy year was a sort of personal reset, kind of like a circuit breaker to snap me out of my planet-killing habit of leaping on every new trend anytime one drifted into my orbit.
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