Entry #3: On Buyer's Regret and Wal Mart's Fancy Cousin

Today I tried scouring my procrastinating mind for a provocative yet poignant blog post entry idea... to absolutely no avail. For at least a solid half hour I ran through a slew of recent chapters in our lovely social psychology text, hoping that some academic concept would weave itself gracefully around a personal memory of mine and, voilà!, the assignment would be written and completed in no time. 


That did not happen. So I went to Target. 

There she is, the gleaming bane of my scholastic existence. 

It was only an hour or so later, while audibly fretting to myself in the bright red corporate checkout line, that I realized my blog topic was blatantly obvious. In fact, I was about to experience it. 


Cognitive dissonance is defined by both Wikipedia and our textbook as a feeling of discomfort caused by simultaneous conflicting cognitions- these could be emotions, values, beliefs, or ideals. Basically it means that as humans in good(ish) conscience, we tend to get upset when the projected images we have of ourselves do not match up with our actual behaviors or actions. We aren't always/usually/ever the best people we can possibly be. Shocking. 

Are you trying to convince America you aren't a crook Richy?
Or are you juuust trying to convince yourself?

Now, my own example of cognitive dissonance may not be on as large of a scale as Watergate was, but it is something that affects most of us red bloods on a daily basis. Two words: buyer's remorse. The All-American dilemma.

Really betch? The plane just wasn't doing it for ya?

Come on people, you know the feeling. You just got a chunky paycheck (or in my case, an exaggerated food stamp). Your bank account balance is in black. Your pockets are weighed down. You're feeling frisky. So what do you do? You shag your butt to the nearest retail monster and try to tell yourself you will "just look at the sale rack for a second". And after two hours, you end up like me. 

"I really need this plunger."

I am in a constant state of buyer's remorse. I know I need to save money for, I don't know, LIFE, but I am so easily convinced (by myself) to spend any hard earned cash as soon as it is in my possession. If justifying consumerism was an olympic sport, I would be Michael Phelps. I can create ludicrous pro and con lists for that blouse/jean jacket/perfume/necklace/speedboat in about five seconds flat. It's a gift. In fact, one of the ways cognitive dissenters can sleep at night is through reducing the negative effects of their actions. Usually this is done by putting space between the right and wrong decisions. So by convincing ourselves that whatever decision we make is much better than the other, nasty, weird, gross, terrible one, we effectively reduce our cognitive dissonance. Meaning we effectively feel better. 

And if we feel better, we buy more!
That tank top could restart a third world economy!
Go America!!!

In conclusion, although Target's internal battle of retail raged deep within me, I eventually found some peace. I knew that the crippling remorse I felt as I walked out of the store clutching my single plastic bag was just a momentary cognitive discomfort felt during a lifetime of dissonance.

Besides, I really needed those shoes.