Hooray for Downsizing

This morning while shopping in the Post Exchange, a military version of Target, my three-year-old son walked up to a men’s cologne display and sprayed an ample amount of Polo into his own face. After hauling him off to the ladies room and wiping him down with cold, wet paper towels, I silently cursed the manager who made the decision to market cologne at a preschooler’s eye level.

I was in sales and marketing for five years. I get the concept of product placement to grab the attention of different types of consumers and age groups. I also understand the sales approach. Market research suggests that the average person has an attention span of seven seconds. Whatever messages we manage to flood the consumer’s with in that seven-second span could leave an indelible impression, one that might motivate them to buy a our products. Overload the consumer with sensory stimulation and something might stick. Plant subliminal suggestions to trigger a subconscious reaction. Add scent to evoke certain memory association. We all see it in the supermarket.Candy is placed near the check out line where kids salivate while the moms load groceries onto the conveyor belts. Sweet cereals, Pop Tarts, and cookies are placed strategically at a child’s eye level. Fruit rollups are a preschoolers eye level. Tampons and sanitary napkins rest somewhere in the middle.

I can name countless times when my family was inundated with marketing messages. In the car, on the way to school, the morning radio show usually promotes skin care, lip amplifiers, miraculous treatments for aging skin, cat food, or any other number of consumable items. Infomercials promote hair care, health care, floor care, or tub care. And each of these ads competes for our attention, attempt to appeal to our enlarged egos, and to our pocket books.

But hold on, do we always need everything we see? Isn’t it possible that we’ve been living too long in an anything we could ever dream of and too much of a good thing consumer-driven economy? Isn’t it possible that we all could be a whole lot happier with a lot less? I know that I’d be happier with a few less cologne models attempting to spray me with a multitude of fragrances. I know I’d be happier shopping at the supermarket with my children when there are twenty-five fewer varieties of cereal and cookies. How many different ways can one enjoy Captain Crunch anyway? Honestly!

Although some of my children wish and dream for the world or any fantastic toy they see on Nickelodeon or The Disney Channel, I do subscribe that less is more. We don’t eat at restaurants more than once every few weeks. We no longer frequent Starbucks for our morning lattes. I’ve always purchased second-hand clothing. My children have one, perhaps two pairs of shoes, and no more. We eat very little meat at home and cook most nights. And we almost never buy movie tickets. Cable is expensive enough, and we get plenty of enjoyment piling together into the living room to catch a great movie. Did I mention we have thirteen children?

This morning Howard Davidowitz, Chairman of Davidowitz and Associates, an investment banking consultant, said in an interview that “the worst is yet to come” in our economy. He speculates that Americans are undergoing a “permanent” change in standard of living, and not necessarily for the better. For too long, the American economy has been consumer driven, lead by debt-driven spending. With the busted housing bubble, a financial market meltdown, and rising unemployment, Americans are scaling down their spending and their expectations. They are spending less, and finally saving more.

I say, it’s about time. .Raising our kids and ourselves in a setting where we can have anything we desire has made us all too spoiled, greedy, and plain mean. In some ways, Americans grew into spoiled brats, grownup children that other countries don’t like to play with. The problem with being spoiled is that after such a period of excess, very little seems tasty and satisfying. It’s hard to enjoy what you have when you’re always thinking you can have more. Kind of like the parody The Fisherman and His Wife, or Dr. Seuss’ Yertle the Turtle. I think it’s high time for us to enjoy living with less, to learn to enjoy each other, to savor the simpler pleasures. It’s time for Americans to stop behaving like petulant children. And maybe, yes maybe in the distant future, my children will stop begging me for every item on the shelf, and my three-year-old won’t spray me or himself with cologne.

I’m hardly thrilled about the economic belt tightening we’re all going to have to do as we consumers absorb the brunt of the mortgage crisis, the banking crisis, and the automobile bailout. But I think there’s a silver lining in every tough lesson. For the first time since the Great Depression, we Americans might learn prudence. We might learn conservation, and how to scale back. These are not such bad habits to adopt.