Impulse Shopping

An errand the other day to purchase some dish sponges inspired this post. Now I grant that something so inauspicious seems an unlikely topic but stay with me for a bit. These were no ordinary sponges, that would have been too simple. They were a particular type that my significant other prefers and we'd run out of the last of them. I confess its merits were lost on me but we were at loose ends and an excuse to get out of the house was at hand. So, off we trundled to a certain Swedish mega store to replenish the stock. You know the place--the familiar yellow and blue signs identifying the cavernous warehouse can be seen from miles away.

Once inside we attempted to make short work of it, but that isn't the way it works. The store is laid out in such a way as to require an exhausting trek through a maze of 'departments' featuring items which pay homage to 6th century Norse gods or have unpronounceable names like Glyfflning or Flodr. Why a couch should be named Odinstet is beyond me but in any event the logic of where our sponges might be found was beyond us--not in kitchenware, not with cleaning supplies, but cryptically in household organization--a section miles from where we were standing. So we followed the maze, found a not so convenient computer screen promising to locate us and our long sought item and grimly trudged ahead.

After quite a long safari wandering aimlessly we finally found our treasure and grabbed several packages in the hope we had enough to last a lifetime. By this point we had fears of becoming trapped forever in hedgerows of bookcases, elderberry syrup, oddly shaped lamps and trundle beds, never to be heard from again. I have heard reports of shoppers who became so lost that they wound up spending the night but it may be an urban myth. Nevertheless, I digress.

The genius of this store is in fact its meandering layout and quixotic displays of items that one might happen upon as if by sheer accident. I assure you it is methodically even deviously planned to exploit that most human of traits, unrestrained impulse shopping. It is the same cunning that is employed at your local supermarket, bookstore or hardware outlet.

Even the online shopping world has found a way to emulate this pattern, popping up items "you might like' , or showcasing something related to a Google search you did fourteen months ago and have long since forgotten. Forgotten, that is, until you are prompted by a scrolling display of snowshoes, espresso machines, or bunion tape that the online merchant hopes you cannot resist.

Much as we may think we are smart shoppers or cautious planners, marketers know otherwise. Beneath our calculating exterior is the mind of a terrier, easily distracted by bright shiny objects. Show us a shocking yellow nesting funnel set or a bin of can openers cleverly shaped like a bird's beak and we are hooked. Our limbic brains take over and we abandon all pretense of need. We are in hunting mode and the game is afoot. Chances are we'll end up buying something completely unrelated to the pedestrian item we came for and our impulse purchase will find its way to a closet or drawer until it ends up at our local Goodwill many years hence. Household goods, clothes, food, or in our case, sponges which were purchased by impulse on the only other occasion we visited the store in question. We cannot resist, we must have whatever that thing is and we'll rationalize our purchase in a heartbeat.

Our distant ancestors may have been hunting for Woolly Mammoths, but when an Arctic Ground Squirrel popped up you know they could not pass it by. Call it survival instinct or fear of missing out, but this quintessentially human behavior cannot be denied. So, give in to those impulses, after all, its only a package of peanut butter cups at the checkout, a bejeweled iPhone case at the markdown outlet, or a set of day glow orange nested measuring cups named Billy. You know you have to have it.