school supplies.

muddling our way through consumerism in the back-to-school season.

Let’s blame it on Big Back-To-School Energy, which is so tied up in consumer frenzy that it can hardly be separated, but last Friday, on the second morning of public schools being open in New York City, before I even had the chance to finish my cup of coffee or kiss my children goodbye on their way out the door, my family had rattled off a list the length of my arm of new items that we thought might improve our back-to-school season.

Items included:

+ A kitchen wall clock

+ An inscrutably described “soccer” water bottle

+ An electric kettle

+ A magical toilet cleaning product

+ An 18th century farmhouse

+ A blender that doesn’t leak

+ Cheerios

+ Bowls to replace our shattered ones

These, of course, were only the desires I was privy to because they were spoken aloud by my family or because they flitted across my very own brain, small flickers of dopamine-spiking covetousness inspired by early morning email checking and bleary eyed internet scrolling. Based on the morning’s events, I’d hazard the guess that the unspoken list of desired items was quite a bit longer and included things like a new toothbrush, socks that aren’t “tight,” Clif Bars, split-soled ballet slippers, a set of scented rubber erasers, and more than two pairs of blue striped underwear beloved over all other and currently at the laundromat.