When Vinted follows you into the sea

I must be one of the few people who don’t use resale platforms (I’ve somehow pared down most of what I own over the years, so don’t really have the need). But they seem like a brilliant idea: We pass on clothes we no longer wear, give things a second life, keep stuff out of landfill. It makes sense, and even has an air of virtuosity about it. But surely, there’s a paradox...?

Which is - that resale platforms also make it easier to buy more. They give us an exit strategy - if your purchase doesn't work out, you can always resell. And that safety net encourages more consumption, not less. Plus it means - we’re not just shoppers, we're now small business owners - photographing, listing, packaging, posting, watching YouTube tutorials on how to beat the algorithm. I’m left wondering - wouldn’t it just be easier to buy less?

Last year I went for a dawn sea swim at a popular spot where a cold water swimming group regularly meet. It was a gorgeous moment - the sun rising over the Welsh coast, the water beautifully calm, my body fizzing with cold…and also, just behind me, I couldn’t help hear an animated conversation between a group of swimmers on strategies for how to make best use of Vinted!

I’ve mentioned some of the reasons people use resale websites, also not forgetting that in a cost of living crisis, people can’t afford not to sell on things they’ve bought. But still, what struck me during that swim, was that even in the water, even whilst catching the sun rise - we somehow struggle to switch off from the machinery of buying and selling. And I wonder a lot about what actually wins out - how handy it is to have somewhere to sell on stuff we no longer use. Over - just buying less. I can’t help thinking the latter would leave us with more time, more space, more money - in the long run. Resale platforms are great (ok, for those who’ve got their heads round them), but they've also given us yet another job amidst a myriad of jobs. Another screen to check, package to send, and way to be both consumer and competitor…just more stuff all round to manage.

When I’m in the sea (specially in the winter) the cold delivers this shock to your system, a kind of “life is happening right now!!” system shock. It’s elemental, your breath becomes sharp, all your senses are alive.

What if the answer isn't just better systems for moving our purchases around, but permission to step back entirely? To restore the sacred as a practice. To watch the sun rising on the water without distraction. To pare down. Simplify. Connect to the ultimate resource - our bodies, (hopefully) our health, the earth, all of our more than human kin. It’s here. And the crazy thing is - it’s free. What would happen if we allowed our bodies to resist the imperative to consume...And instead, what if we spent more time just consuming the sunrise, the moon rise, and the ripples over the water…