Have you ever wondered exactly why you buy what you buy? I’m not just talking about food, I’m talking about the every day items. For example, why do I buy Ariel washing powder and favour Comfort over Lenor? Why I am loyal to Fairy Liquid when there are just so many washing up liquids to choose from? Why do I stick with plain old chickens and steer clear of the yellowing corn-fed ones? What drives me to buy what I buy? Familiarity? Habit? A reluctance to try something new? Being a stick in the mud?
You can tell, can’t you, that I’m still waiting for my sodding phone to be delivered.
I rang them yesterday at twenty past three and was fobbed off with loads of rubbish, including the fact that I was out when they tried to deliver. When I told them that my husband had been walking the streets with the dogs at 7am and my son was taken to and from nursery by a helpful pal so that I could in fact remain at home they immediately backed down and promised to talk to the returns department on my behalf. This they did, but not before I threatened that my next call to them would be when I chose Option 2 (option 2 being “if you are thinking about leaving this useless phone company” although I’m paraphrasing here) and that if my phone was not in my grubby little mitt by 5pm TODAY, ie on the 24th of January in this, the year of our Lord, I shall not only tell them where to stick the remaining ten months of their contract but shall advise all of my friends/family/passing acquaintances/random strangers NOT to choose this useless phone company but to go Orange instead. Hah! That got them. Woman in the Call Centre fell over herself to promise me delivery today. Well, we’ll see.
Anyway, I’m sitting with David’s laptop at the kitchen table which is the optimum place to hear the doorbell and (hopefully) the arrival of my mobile phone. The living room would be an obvious place to sit but then I’d find myself glued to the window waiting for the little jaunty delivery van to appear and will only get disappointed when he delivers yet more crapola to Jill With The Purple Door – honestly, that woman is a devil for catalogues – and steers clear of my doorstep.
I wonder what a market researcher would make of my choices? They split us consumers into different groups you know. Saskia once took part in a consumer survey and found she was an Alpha with Omega tendencies. She didn’t know what the hell it meant but she hasn’t bought ketchup since.
From my position at the kitchen table I can see that I buy Kingsmill bread, Clover margarine, Bonne Maman jam. Why not Hovis, I can’t believe it’s not butter and good old Robinsons? Why don’t I play fast and loose with my eating habits? Could it be that I prefer Kingsmill, Clover and Bonne Maman? Can’t be just that, surely.
If I open up the cupboard under the sink (if I can negotiate my way past the childlock) I will see Ariel (colour and white tablets) sitting next to my Comfort concentrate bottle. Next to that is a bottle of Flash liquid (always the lemon scented, always), Asda own brand stain remover, Domestos bleach and Sainsburys own brand surface cleaner.
This afternoon I shall whiz round with the Cif, Mr Sheen and Febreze. For dinner tonight we’ve got a leg of pork because, well, we always have a leg of pork. And I can never cook belly of pork properly. Along with King Edward roast spuds (never Maris Piper), broccoli and carrots.
I’ve written my list for shopping on Saturday and have highlighted several items that I always buy and have vowed to change brands, just for the hell of it.
It’s funny what waiting around can do to a girl.