some more fodder....

here is an excerpt from something else I was reading...
I likey... a la Carrie Bradshaw...


....‘Ad creators are increasingly able to focus on children,’ write Rowe and Ruskin. The more I think about it, the more I’m tempted to write a letter of complaint to absentee parents. Parents need to raise their children themselves, and not shove the imparting of norms and values onto the babysitter, school or television. Those who leave it to ‘the culture’ to educate children about what we consider important, shouldn’t be surprised if that culture sends kids to the shopping mall. And those who consider earning money more important than raising children, shouldn’t become indignant if those children fill up the emptiness with spending money.

.....We also discovered what we called the ‘Ikea effect’. That became a family expression. We noticed that we always ended up in a bad mood after walking around a department store, no matter how happily we had started the excursion. Again and again, we went in full of expectation and excitement… only to leave a little while later in a combative mood. We analysed it and reached a conclusion: Ikea deludes you. So do all the other alluring department stores with their unrealistic promises: ‘Everything you always wanted is right here, and it will make you happy’. But even if I entered with money in my pocket and in a generous mood, that promise was never fulfilled. This is because what your heart’s desires cannot be bought, it’s as simple as that. Warmth, relaxation, pleasure, mutual understanding and fellowship are not things you can simply pay for and wrap up. So every actual purchase comes with a little disappointment. At first you might think that having yet another desirable object will fulfil that promise. But no, it doesn’t. Finally, disappointment creeps in and with it, irritation and friction.
When we recognised and labelled the Ikea effect, it lost its power over us. And with that the store – not coincidentally – lost a lot of its appeal.
I think a consciousness of abundance means that every time you want something you ask yourself if you really need it. And I mean ‘need’ in a broad sense. You may need it for your body or for your soul. An ice cream, for example, can be a very wise purchase. (I’ve even noticed that at times, ice cream can even heal children’s tummy aches.) But eating ice cream all day long won’t make a child happy. Girls around age seven sometimes also need a princess costume: a shiny satiny dress with so many frills and bows that I could never make one as nice. But constantly buying clothes won’t make you a princess. It is often a question of finding the middle ground.