Perfectionism & Scarcity

[Listen to an audio version of this blog here.]

I bought a new sweater and a new pair of pants. Nice quality, nothing gouache but nothing name-branded. Worn together, the outfit makes me look like a suburban mom at a community park. I blend right into an office complex. The barista at Starbucks correctly assumes that I am older than her, but not too much. The sweater neckline is not revealing. The pants are a sensible navy. It felt odd to spend so much money on two items of clothing, but it also felt better than buying ten cheap items that would inevitably shrink in the wash or tear apart beneath the armpit, or lose shape after a month of use. My new clothes, I reasoned, were at the very least not built in a sweatshop.

The day my items arrived, I folded them neatly and placed them on my bed. Later, my cat curled up next to them and I thought, “how cute.” Seconds later, he stretched his front paws, his claws extending, and wound a thread of my brand new sweater into his tiny cat talon. The thread was only frayed a little, but I was aghast that my new, perfect items (items that were far nicer than any clothing I normally buy) were suddenly flawed. Salvador Dali said, “Have no fear of perfection — you’ll never reach it.” Humans can never reach perfection and apparently, neither can sweaters.