Today was our designated shopping day — and oh, the bags we hauled home.
I’m not much of a shopper in London. Prices there are so absurdly high that most things just don’t feel worth what they cost.
I’ve actually been rather frugal since early childhood. I remember our parents taking Onkar and me to ASDA or Tesco for groceries, trying hard to convince me to pick out something for myself. I never would. Meanwhile, they’d be the ones having to say no to half of the seven things Onkar had snuck into the trolley. Maybe some subconscious part of me thought I was helping balance out his side of the expenditure, but our financial situation — and I’m grateful for this — was never so dire that my parents couldn’t afford both of us the occasional toy.
Maybe I picked up my habits from mom — always looking for the best deals, proud of saving a pound here and there, which, over time, adds up to quite a bit.
But maybe it had nothing to do with either of them, and this is just the way I turned out. It sounds like I’m blaming the responsible party, but I don’t think being frugal is a bad thing. As long as it doesn’t turn stingy, I’d argue it’s even good. It’s one of the main reasons I could afford this whole gap-year-and-a-half after quitting my job.
I’m pretty sure mom and I have collectively spent less on accommodation throughout this entire Japan trip than Onkar has on just his hotel for these 10 days. We’ve had our share of ups and downs, sure, but in hindsight, we’ve stayed in perfectly liveable (even sometimes luxurious) places.
So no, shopping isn’t part of my daily life in London. I specify London because while I am frugal, I’m not (yet) a minimalist. I still shop, obviously — I just tend to wait for the right opportunity. For example, during my (recently twice-a-year) visits back to India, where everything is way more affordable. I usually land with a to-buy list already in my head, and mom and I make it a meticulous project to tick things off one by one.
Like in my childhood, she still encourages me to shop, and even more so in recent years now that I earn independently and fund myself. In Indian culture, it’s pretty normal for parents to financially support their children for a good while longer than in the West, and my parents feel like they should still be continuing with that input, even though I don’t let them. So now, whenever something like buying clothes comes up, they jump at the chance to pay. I don’t fight it — it’s their way of expressing love, and I’ve learned to just say thank you.
I knew when I booked this trip to Japan that it’d be cheaper than most of my travels within Europe, thanks to the weak yen. Onkar had used that fact as a major selling point to try and convince us to make the trip happen (clearly, it worked).
I had also recently signed on for my new job that’s to start in December, which meant I could finally loosen up a little with the newfound knowledge that my savings were no longer my only financial runway. Between that and the yen, I was in the right mood to shop while in Japan. And shop, I did.
In the early days — especially when mama log were still here — I was careful not to accumulate too much stuff so that it wouldn’t become any more difficult than it already was to haul around our luggage. I noted down things I liked in stores I knew I’d likely revisit later, but if something was rare, on sale, or local to the area, I let myself get it. I didn’t not shop, but I didn’t go crazy.
But then, near the end of mama log’s stay, we discovered the holy grail: 100-yen stores. Dollar stores, basically. And I gave in.
When we were nearing the time for dad and bua’s arrival (with their glorious half-empty suitcases = extra baggage space for our stuff), we really started going for it. My little “I’ll get this later” list grew and grew, and included a bunch of new things I hadn’t even thought of before.
And honestly, at 100 yen, things felt next to free. What even is half a pound in London? Next to nothing. But here, it gets you stationery, organisers, kitchenware, makeup, souvenirs, snacks — things I didn’t know I wanted but suddenly felt like I needed. It was material hedonism, and I wasn’t holding back.
And it wasn’t just the cheap stuff. I bought a lot from UNIQLO. A brand I once stepped into and straight back out of in London after seeing the price tag on a jacket. Here, the same brand’s prices convert to what you’d pay at Primark in the UK — but with 5x the quality. A lot of my London wardrobe is budget-branded, so this felt like a justified splurge. I even found myself buying things I didn’t know I needed, and weirdly enough, those things ended up changing my whole fashion vibe.
It wasn’t just stuff for me. I’ve been buying things for others too — friends, family, gifts for Eva. I’ve never properly done Christmas shopping as an adult — I’m usually in India during the holidays, and Christmas gift-giving among my friends at university wasn’t ever really a thing. But this year, I’ll be back in London, and I do actually have people to shop for. So Japan has unofficially become my Christmas shopping destination.
And all this talk isn’t limited to clothes and gifts — I’ve been spending more on coffee, too. Back in London, one coffee a day felt indulgent, so I’d buy one and drink the rest at home. Here, the same price gets me three cups from different konbinis throughout the day, and I’ve been doing that guilt-free.
That said — shopping has taken up so much time. Mom and I have been stopping at literally every shop that looks cute or aesthetic or promising, and unlike when we were with Mama and co. when at least there was the guilt of holding others up (helped by the subtle looks of disapproval by the less interested people in the group), lately it’s just been the two of us, enabling each other. We’re both equally to blame.
We even carved out significant time to dedicate to Black Friday shopping, even though it was only 2 days before the JLPT. Thankfully in retrospect, but quite a bummer on the day, Black Friday wasn’t much of a thing at all. We expected UK-level chaos and discounts, but nada. We cut our losses early when this became evident, and went back to studying.
Still, we had to take Dad and Bua souvenir shopping, and Mom and I needed to finish our own lists, so we took today as the designated shopping day. Turned out that almost everything we wanted was available in Ikebukuro itself, so I made a little itinerary and we hit it all.
But while it sounds like I was having the time of my life, there were moments I felt downright terrible. There’s a very specific kind of guilt I feel after buying cheap things I don’t really need. Like I’m undoing the progress I’ve made in becoming a more intentional person. Remember the minimalism piece? Yeah. Yesterday I bought two suits, and today another. It felt like a steal, but let’s be honest — how many suits do I wear? It was a good deal, but not a good decision.
Still, in my head, I justify it by saying I won’t continue this habit in London. Prices will reset my brain. And honestly, it’s the affordability here (combined with how CUTE everything is) that’s made me more impulsive. In a way, this is ‘smart’ shopping. Things that would be way more expensive back home are affordable here — like shopping in India. If I know I’ll need something, better to buy it where it’s cheaper, right?
But that doesn’t account for all the things I didn’t know I needed until I saw them. That’s where I catch myself slipping. That’s where it goes from strategic to indulgent.
So yes, I’ve been hedonistically spending. And the monetary total isn’t astronomical, not by London standards. But materialistically? It’s a lot. I’ve added a ton to my wardrobe. Bought a ton of accessories. Accumulated a lot.
And if you ask me whether I feel guilty, the honest answer is: not fully. Not yet. Because, as illogical as it sounds, I’ve decided that the opportunity cost of not shopping in Japan would be worse. This time, I’ll let myself have it.