The simple things

The trouble with online shopping is that every time you buy anything on line you have to provide your contact details so that they can get the goods to you.  Even if you are reserving to collect in store you have to give some form of ID so you can collect the right things when you get there.  As a result of this you are more often than not added to some mailing list or other.  Even if you tick the box that says do not pass this information onto third parties - and you have to be pretty switched on each time to work out if you need to tick or untick to be excluded or if by ticking you are actually including yourself as they are all slightly different - you are almost always added to the mailing list of the company who you are purchasing something from, and so will invariably receive some form of communication from them. After all you bought something from them once, it is possible that you may wish to do so again. Often these days it is by email, and so it is relatively easy to delete unread mails based on the title or the sender.  However, I am still quite amazed at how many companies go to the expense and trouble of mailing out oodles of catalogues and brochures, and utterly flabbergasted by how many of these catalogues land on our doormat in the run up to Christmas. There are hundreds of clothes companies which all look the same (front cover shot on a beach somewhere in the UK to get a rural feel) and seem to sell the same sort of thing (non-descript knitwear teamed with slim fitting trousers that no one real could possibly get into) modelled by similarly wispy looking women in their 40s trying to look like they are in their 30s, and I swear I have never bought anything from any of them, and based on the the cursory glance I gave one of them once, I won't ever be buying anything from them either.  Each catalogue comes with a different name printed on the front of them; a quick glance into my recycling bin at present will reveal Coast (but not the same as the shop), Crew, Emblem, Isabella Oliver, Joules, The White Company, Style, Pepper tree and Calm.  And these are only the ones that have arrived since yesterday when I last emptied the recycling.  Then there are all the homeware catalogues selling similar things to one another yet all claiming to be unique and different, and the children's storage and furniture ones which we seem to get lots of despite the glaring lack of actually having any children, not to mention shoes, outdoor wear, goods on sale in aid of various charities, and no doubt many more I have now forgotten about.

The vast majority of these go straight from door mat to recycling bin, only pausing to have the unrecyclable plastic packaging removed if required.  One or two which come from companies I may actually be interested in looking at might achieve a brief flick through but that is all.  Given I do a lot of my purchasing on line which ironically is where most of these organisations have obtained my details from in the first place, it is likely that I will continue to purchase on line which is the biggest catalogue in the world, without the waste of paper.

This week I received a lovely card from Essex Girl, who revealed that as a child she loved receiving post and had an array of penfriends from various sources including randomly Malta, and thoughtfully she decided that I too might like to receive some nice post.  I do like receiving nice post.  The art of letter writing is reported to have diminished in this country following the take over of the text, the email and the social network, however in my world it is still going strong.  I have received lots of lovely cards recently, and not just short cursory get well soon cards, but cards and notes with real messages in, and paragraphs of communicative text.  And in turn I love to send cards and letters.  There is something very satisfying about sitting down with a blank card, a nice-to-write-in pen and a postal address that cannot be generated by typing an email.   So the positive thought for today, is that when I hear the postman pushing piles of recycling fodder through my letterbox each day, there is a chance that hidden between the catalogues and occasional bank statement there might just be a handwritten card or letter to brighten up my day, in turn delivering another opportunity to get those pens out and send a card back. What are you waiting for?  Get writing.