Candace Bryan’s new hour of standup comedy about trying not to become a shopaholic in a world where the mall is literally in your pocket. We sat down with Candace to discuss her upcoming Edinburgh Fringe performance.
Your show explores the tension between personal politics and online shopping – do you think that contradiction is becoming harder to avoid?
I think so! Advertising has become so invasive, like a little cartoon devil standing on your shoulder telling you what to do. People who wouldn’t be naturally inclined to shop compulsively are being sucked into a more consumerist lifestyle than they probably want. Plus, life’s so busy these days, the convenience of online shopping is super appealing.
At the same time, it kind of feels like the wild west. So many online shopping brands are completely unregulated, and you never know if what you’re buying is going to be good quality or ethically sourced. For all you know, the company who made your can opener is linked to global atrocities. What can you do? There are systemic problems that make it harder to live 100% in accordance with your values.
As a self-described “theoretical minimalist”, what purchase are you least able to justify but most reluctant to give up?
No one works harder than the screws holding my wardrobe together. I have way too many clothes! Some garments I never even wear, but I have a sentimental attachment to. Like how could I ever throw away the jumper I wore on the first date with my boyfriend—or that dress I was wearing in that photo my friend tagged me in where I look super hot? But those sentimental pieces really add up.
Also, I mostly avoid fast fashion, so I spend a lot of time at charity shops or looking for affordable indie brands, which means each piece of clothing feels like the result of labor I’ve invested. But I really don’t need to own this many sundresses, I live in London. I barely see the sun.
Has writing this show changed the way you shop, or just made you more aware of your habits?
Both! I’ve become more attuned to how social media ads are influencing me, so I’m giving into certain impulses less often.
One thing that writing this show’s inspired me to do is learn more about products before I buy them. I always read the ingredients before buying food. Sometimes I think “Oh that’s a lot of chemicals, I’m gonna skip this one.” Other times I see the same ingredients and think “I can handle a few cheeky chemicals today.” Even though I still eat junk sometimes, knowing it’s junk convinces me to eat it less.
I’m trying to do something similar with other things I buy. Researching things like, “Who owns this company?” And asking “Am I cool with giving them £20 today?” Reckoning with that can be helpfully dissuasive.
What is it about modern consumer culture that makes it such a rich source of comedy?
It’s funny how much has changed, so quickly. Like nowadays, we’re all getting hyper-personalized consumer experiences online. You open your phone and you don’t just see ads, you see ads that speak to your specific interests, hobbies, aesthetics. I recently got an ad for a Swarovski crystal statue of Shrek. Clearly the algorithm understands exactly what will light up my brain’s pleasure centers.
There’s a lot of silly, beautiful humanity in consumerism, too. I’ve gotten inspiration from reading overly-zealous online product reviews, watching people browse Vinted on the Tube, and chatting with friends as we realize things like “making embarrassing Deliveroo purchases” or “missing 30-day return deadlines” are shared experiences.
These experiences say something funny about human nature, and expose something a bit off about how we’ve designed our society.
You ask whether it’s OK to want to look hot at a protest – why do questions of identity and self-expression often clash with our ideals?
In our current climate, we are taught to place such a high importance on aesthetics for our identity and self expression. I believe clothes and makeup involve true artistry, but under capitalism it’s difficult to divorce those arts from materialism and over-consumption. Like, will I truly feel self actualized by blue eyeshadow, or have I just been influenced by a TikTok micro-trend and now I’m seeing ads for blue eyeshadow palettes? It’s hard to know what part of my aesthetic expression is actually originating in my self vs. my algorithm.
So I think there’s a funny irony in wanting to look hot, i.e. to partake in this flawed system, while I go into the streets to demonstrate how I want to dismantle that very system.
Do you think online shopping is filling a genuine need, or are we increasingly buying things to soothe other anxieties?
I think it can fill needs, but also becomes very attached to emotions. For example, I keep seeing TikToks about “romanticizing your life” and “becoming more whimsical.” A lovely sentiment. But the recommendations for implementing romance and whimsy are always “Buy frilly pink curtains” or “Give your bathroom a cozy makeover.” I can’t think of anything less whimsical than spending an hour browsing curtains on johnlewis.com.
But buying curtains lets you feel in an instant that you’re improving your life. Three clicks, three day shipping, and now you can say you’re whimsy-maxxing. When really you should go to the park and learn how to do a cartwheel. But there’s friction in that, and 9 times out of 10 we’re too tired, too filled with existential dread to bear friction.