Consumerism

Something I bought and soon regretted was an expensive smartwatch, which I purchased about two years ago during a major online sale event. At the time, I’d convinced myself that it would transform my health — tracking my sleep, counting steps, reminding me to stand up — and the discount, around forty percent, made it feel like a bargain I couldn’t miss. In hindsight, I bought it for a combination of reasons that had little to do with genuine need. There was the artificial urgency of the sale, with a countdown timer on the website; there was a slightly aspirational image of myself as someone who’d become fitter overnight; and, if I’m honest, several colleagues had one, and I didn’t want to feel left behind. For the first few weeks, I was enthusiastic, but the novelty wore off quickly. The constant notifications made me more anxious rather than healthier, the battery needed charging almost daily, and I found that the data, while interesting, didn’t actually change my behaviour. Within three months, it was sitting in a drawer. I regretted it partly because of the money, but more because it exposed how easily I could be manipulated by marketing techniques that I would have criticised if someone else had fallen for them. Ironically, that lesson has probably saved me far more money than the watch cost, because I now impose a rule on myself: I wait a week before buying anything non-essential.

Xarid sabablarini tahlil qiling (marketing, ijtimoiy bosim) — o‘z-o‘zini tanqidiy baholash Band 8 belgisi.