3 Ways to Tame Your Impulse Shopping Today

It starts innocently: Maybe you’re procrastinating or zoning out during a Zoom meeting. You scroll past a sponsored ad (Instagram knows you too well). You click into the product page, and the next thing you know, you’re looking at those big, bold words: “Thank you for your purchase!” 

Impulse shopping. It happens to all of us. Here are 3 tricks to tame an online shopping habit. 

My #1 tip to stop impulse buying: Give it a week

You find yourself hovering over the “Add to Cart” button. Take a deep breath. Then *gasp* close out of the site. 

In the moment, you can always convince yourself that you want, even NEED something. “I would definitely sleep better in washable silk PJs” or “This gym bag has an odor-proof pocket for dirty clothes!” 

But that’s in the moment. For me, closing a site is a true test of how much I want — or actually need — something. Sure, I might still be thinking about it as I’m going to bed. Am I thinking about it in the morning? Possibly. Am I still thinking about it in a week? 

If whatever-it-may-be is still knocking around my noggin a week later, I may go for it. But more often than not, other life things will have taken over, and the impulse-buy-to-be will have evaporated.  

Rinse and Repeat

The trouble is that the internet knows us too well; once you’ve clicked on that ad, you’ll probably see it again and again. But if you’ve already given it one week, can you give it another? You’ve probably worked out some good reasons NOT to buy it in that first week. Hold on to those. And if it’s been more than a few weeks...

Treat Yo’ Self (Once In a While)

And don’t feel guilty doing it. Over a few weeks, you may have closed out of lots of possible impulse buys. Maybe you’ve forgotten about most of them, but one has just been sticking around, lingering. Maybe it’s been so long, it’s even gone on sale. 

Complete self-deprivation doesn’t help build any habits, and knowing that you’ll eventually treat yourself to something you really want makes it easier to pass up the occasional small stuff. 

A Two-Decade old Wedding Card

When I was around 10, I really wanted an American Girl doll. At the time, they were $82 – that amount is burned into my memory. I was receiving a weekly allowance, but nothing that would amount to $82 before I became a teenager. My mom told me if I really wanted the doll, I could earn the money to buy one. But how was a 10-year-old supposed to come up with $82?

At my mom’s suggestion, I started making and selling Christmas cards. I think it was summer at the time. While I loved to draw, I wouldn’t say I was especially talented at it. But I decided I would do it. I spend the next whatever-amount-of-time folding printer paper into quarters, drawing some design on the front, and proudly labeling the back of each one: “Karina Cool Cards” (that’s how you know they were the real thing). I sold each card for a quarter.

Family and neighbors bought cards and donated to my cause (I’m sure I didn’t end up creating or selling 336 cards), and I was able to buy my doll by Christmas.

Fast forward 21 years. I get married (to quite a wonderful and handsome man, IMHO). We get lots of wedding cards. And in that big pile of wedding cards is one Karina Cool Card. My grandma had saved it for over 2 decades and gave it back to me on my wedding day, with all her love and a beautiful note.

We received so much love on our wedding day and made some amazing memories that I’ll cherish forever, and of all of those, this card is one I’ll cherish the most. Inspired into creation by one amazing woman and kept and guarded by another amazing woman – these women have shaped and molded me into who I am today.

Coincidentally, both of them have birthdays in March, one day apart (March 6 and March 7) and fittingly, March is Woman’s History Month.

So to close out this year’s Woman’s History Month, I thought I’d share this tidbit of my history with you and say thank you, as always, to these two remarkable women.

Take the Bridge (race recap)

For such a short race, it is so impactful. There’s a mystique behind it — it’s an unsanctioned race, no course, no stopped traffic. It’s just the city, the energy, two checkpoints, you, and your run crew. Go time is in the dark, 8:30 at night. Only 39 people line up with you. There are 40 men, 40 women, separate heats, no waves. You know you need to book it if you don’t want to be last. 

You start and end on the Longfellow. A huge crowd gathers, mostly runners from the run clubs present, some friends, everyone chattering and moving. The vibe is palpable, electric.

You have to get to the first checkpoint as fast as you can, any way you can. The horn blares, and everyone takes off. You seed yourself towards the back, but the wave of runners carries you, and you’re already going faster than you’ve ever started. 

At the end of the bridge, the pack splits. There’s no way to describe how disconcerting it is to see runners peel off down side streets and disappear — usually you’re all staying the same course. You don’t have time to decide who to follow — you just go. 

Pedestrians leap out of your way and gawk at this pack of girls tearing down the sidewalk at full speed. Runners jump out into traffic, over benches, cut corners, whatever they think the most direct route is. Girls who had turned down side streets pop up in front and behind you. You have no idea where you fall in the pack. 

The first checkpoint is in Paul Revere Park, navigating the dark causeways. A blur of a person swipes your bare arm with a Sharpie — check. You come up under the Zakim and bear down on the second checkpoint on the Cambridge Greenway. From there, it’s a short(ish) sprint back to the bridge. 

Coming up the bridge, you can hear the crowd and the megaphone before you see them. You crest the hill, run through the gauntlet of cheering, screaming, fist-pumping people, and then suddenly, you’re done. 

You double over, drop your hands onto your knees, take a few deep, shaky breaths to bring yourself back down. Someone hands you a scrap of paper with your time on it, the fastest 2.85(ish) miles you’ve ever run. Someone yells out the location of the afterparty and the bridge empties in minutes, with no finish line tape, no discarded cups, no course ropes left as evidence that it ever happened at all. 

Boston Marathon: Swimming from Hopkinton to Boylston

Worst weather since 2007: torrential rain and 30mph headwinds. Coldest weather since 1970: lows of 38F. I was soaked under my poncho before I even hit the start line and couldn’t feel my feet for the first some odd miles. 

And it was one of the most amazing experiences of my life. I play it over and over in my head: the sudden downpours every time I thought I was “comfortably” soggy; the drenched volunteers and spectators who never stopped cheering; the glee of seeing my family and friends and getting powered up by hugs. 

Hitting the half, hitting the 20, seeing the family at 22 and then flying. I felt surprisingly good: a few twinges, some discomfort, but nothing that stayed with me. I didn’t really feel the hills, I was surprised; maybe it was delirium. I did give myself a minute or two to walk one of the Newton Hills, but was afraid to give myself too much leeway, in case my legs stopped working. 

Then, the last 4 miles - I felt like I was flying. I was laughing in final deluge I’d run through, and crying, hearing and seeing the ecstatic, roaring spectators. I couldn’t believe how good I felt, how strong my body felt. My body and I have a tenuous, contentious relationship, so for us to be working in tandem, to be allowed to let go and just fly - I cried and ran with all my heart. 

Right on Hereford, over the street I couldn’t see what with all the discarded plastic ponchos; left on Boylston, and the finish line that was so much farther away than I thought it would be. It felt like the crowd was there just for me.

I ran the last mile in 8 minutes and 7 seconds. I negative split the marathon, running the second half almost 11 minutes faster than the first. And despite the rain and the cold, I beat my time goal of 4h 30m, finishing with a time of 4:26:22 and a 10:10 average mile. 

The Wedding Photography “Trend”

Stop and think for a moment. What does a wedding photography “trend” entail? A bunch of stock images pinned to a Pinterest Board? The current “Best of 2018” awardees on Junebug? The photo that made the cover of this month’s print issue of The Knot? 

At its best, a wedding photography trend is a photograph one photographer staged or captured that a lot more photographers or couples decided they wanted to reproduce for themselves.

That, my friends, is the true heart of a wedding photography trend – imitation.

Tell me then, why would you want to replicate someone else’s moment on a day you have strived to make so uniquely your own?

A confession for you: I do not follow other wedding photographers’ blogs or websites or Instagram accounts. I don’t check out the featured weddings on The Knot or even Offbeat Bride. I use Pinterest to tag recipes I want to cook and to find inspiration to reorganize my apartment, but I don’t have a “wedding photo inspiration” board. 

Why should I follow the work of other wedding photographers? I don’t want to deliver to you a handful of moments cherry-picked from other people’s weddings. I relish in being wholly present on your wedding day, capturing it as it unfolds naturally. I keep my ears open and people watch and stick myself in the middle of all the happenings so that you get the most genuine portrayal of YOUR wedding day.

I try to keep my staging and directing to a minimum at weddings (outside of the family formals, where I am a megaphone of commanding in a chaotic hour). For the most part, I just watch. And wait. You’re just as likely to get a photo of your bridesmaids doing a smell check before getting dressed as you are to get a photo of that cute flower girl sleeping on the couch or your drunk uncle shaking it on the dance floor. 

I photograph your wedding for you. I have yet to enter any images into any contests. When you see my work in publications, it’s typically because the couple has submitted it. While I do curate a portfolio to post throughout the season, I’m not capturing your wedding moments for me – I’m capturing them for you. And – IMHO – aren’t those moments that you’ve created candidly, lived through, and committed to memory (or not, depending on how much tequila is involved) so much more meaningful to you than those you just staged for the sake of a snapshot?

So, tell me again, why are we following those wedding photography trends?