Hyperkult

We call this "The Danger Zone"

As I sat huddled under a blanket next to my space heater, laptop screen aglow in the throes of early morning insomnia, it occurred to me that I have a problem. Sleeplessness is one thing, but worse yet is the dangerous form of online behavior that I’m wont to participate in. I don’t troll for anonymous sex partners on Craig’s List or play Texas Hold ‘Em at 3:00 AM, but my eBay Watch List consistently spirals out of control, virtually endless in number. Right now it’s bursting with items I want but don’t need, however I might find a way to justify that vintage Dior belly dance belt, Junya Watanabe cape sweater, mustard yellow Ungaro leather skirt, and on and on.

I vacillate between being ashamed and unabashedly proud of my eBay savvy—skills honed since my first triumphant win: a magenta Marc Jacobs Sofia bag, named after the fashionable Coppola and purchased for $410 all told. Riri zippers signaled its authenticity, it came in a pristine white duster, not a pen mark sullied its interior, and I snagged it for over 50 percent off retail. My hands were trembling in the aftermath of bidding, and I struggled to calm euphoric heart palpitations as I drove to my film class that evening.

Here I am five years later, even deeper in the dregs of my addiction. My retail taste tends toward vintage clothing, and most of my eBay finds end up being loved pieces I wear to the point of damaging them. My favorite vintage pirate boots ($30) are in the shop being resoled as I type this, along with a pair of early 2000s Costume National booties won for $41.99, including shipping. When I shared that tidbit with my local “shoe guy” he blanched, saying I had brought in “the Rolls-Royce of boots” as he caressed the smooth Italian leather, appraised for at least $500.

I am cocksure of my eBay intelligence, having near-perfected the art of last minute-bidding and winning without the aid of an auction sniper. Yet the shame of conspicuous consumption has a way of plaguing me, especially when I see how many items have been put on Watch in a single week. However, very few of these items end up in my closet—maybe one or two per month at most. I tell myself it’s more an exercise in judicious spending, and my way of preparing for the auctions that I will actually rearrange my schedule to win. It’s loathsome.

I wrote this with the hope of thinking more rationally about my behavior, to combat my need for that post-win elation. Make no mistake, eBay-ing can drive you to a hallucinatory state, hence its appeal. A concerned girlfriend recently, jokingly asked me what void I’m trying to fill with occasional impulse shopping, a question I gave serious thought yet couldn’t respond to. The easy answer would the empty spot in my closet soon-to-be occupied by a high-waisted wool Libertine skirt, if all goes well today. And so the cycle continues to turn, turn, turn.

On a final note, to novice users who pointlessly bid days in advance, I’d just like to say that you’re fucking things up for the rest of us.