Everything was ‘disgusting’. The items, the colours, the packaging, the clutter, the people jostling amongst the shelves and, above all, it seemed, that almost suspicious delight at being able to buy lots of things for very little money.
The word that was never actually spoken was, however, obvious: poor.
That was what, deep down, was disturbing. Not so much the quality of a three-euro vase or a plastic storage box. What seemed unbearable was seeing people taking pleasure in spending within their means. People for whom buying a five-euro decorative item, toys for the children, a cheaper household product or simply a perfectly useless trinket can be a little Saturday-afternoon treat.
And on top of that, are they supposed to feel ashamed?
It’s a strange phenomenon. When a well-off person spends 250 euros on a decorative item in a trendy shop, we talk about taste, design or craftsmanship. When someone on a tight budget buys three items for five euros each at Action, some people immediately see it as vulgarity, overconsumption or bad taste.
So there would seem to be ‘noble’ consumption and ‘vulgar’ consumption. Some items we’re allowed to like, and others for which we should almost apologise.
This judgement is all the easier to make when you’ve never had to count every euro. It is easy to tell others that they should buy less but better when you yourself have the financial means to buy better. It is easy to condemn ‘low-end’ products from a flat where the furniture, clothes and food sometimes cost ten times as much.
Of course, we can discuss the quality of products, their origin, manufacturing conditions, environmental impact or the model of low-cost consumption. These are indeed necessary debates. But in that case, let’s discuss the economic system, manufacturers, production chains and purchasing power.
Let’s not turn customers into the guilty parties.
Because the people who shop at Action are not responsible for wage levels, rent prices, inflation or the cost of goods in high-street shops. They’re simply managing their budgets. And sometimes they treat themselves.
Does this little treat really deserve such sarcasm?
There is something deeply indecent about observing people who have very little and mocking the way they spend what little they have. As if poverty were necessarily austere, discreet and sad. As if someone living on a modest income were only allowed to buy things that are essential, sensible and morally beyond reproach.
The rich, it seems, are entitled to frivolity. The poor, on the other hand, are expected to set an example.
Perhaps that is the real bad taste.
I won’t defend every item sold at Action, and some are probably entirely dispensable. But nobody needs my permission to buy a two-euro candle, a string of fairy lights or a kitsch decoration that they like.
There are far more worrying forms of vulgarity than a shelf full of colourful plastic.
Social contempt is one of them.
And between a woman who’s happy to have found something for three euros and someone who looks down on her because she bought it, I know full well which one strikes me as the most ‘disgusting’.
