Oniomania -- Shopper's Paradise

Oniomania has nothing to do with onions, it is definitely not the irrational excitement induced by neither the bulbous shape nor the pungent smell of the onions. It is the scientific term for compulsive shopping. What has onions to do with shopping? Etymologists say that the word originates from the Greek “Xianos” meaning “for sale” and “Onos” meaning price in Latin. The psychologists overworked with characterisations of all kinds of afflictions affecting the post industrial society has not much funding to work on oniomania; Wal-Mart’s and Targets of the world are not supporters of this line of research. Who would want to cure a disease that fills their coffers? This is unfortunate. Sickness and disease are engines of economic growth, how poor the world economy will be without the contributions of Prozac and Retalin to the revenue streams at Eli-Lilly and Novartis. At the last count the sale of these two drugs accounted for more than three billion dollars. Zaclin, a possible new wonder drug to treat oniomania, could reap trillions by retailing it at Wal-Mart’s of the world. That could be one reason for the retailers to support research into a cure for oniomania.

In the good old days people bought what they needed, that was in agrarian age. In the industrial age people bought what they wanted. Now even the wants have been satiated. In the post industrial society, people are on a buying spree for the sheer excitement of the buying itself and the associated thrill of bargain hunting. Yes, that is what it is, the man has returned to his evolutionary roots, to a pre-agrarian age of hunters. Humans are finally in touch with their primordial instincts for hunting, the fountain springs of Serotonin that makes one feel good.

The “Sale” signs in shopping malls wake up the hunting spirit deep inside a modern man, same as what an overweight pig did to our forefathers. The only difference is that the final kill is performed not with a spear or a club, but with a piece of plastic at the check out counters. A kill is a kill, what ever the weapon used. The hazards of the chase through the shopping aisles are no different from that through the impassable thickets. Carrying the kill after the bargain hunt is a lot easier, if only the shopping trolleys could cooperate.

Religions are very old and they are supposed to guide us to the eternal spirituality and the foundations of human existence. Clearly that blessed path to spirituality has to cross the valleys of primal instincts and that is why all the major sales in every society coincide with religious festivals. Crowds thronging the Christmas, Eid and Diwali ‘Sales’ are only waking up their hunting instincts to fast-forward on the path of nirvana. Oniomaniacs stripped of the trappings of civilisation and its pretensions but true to their natural instincts are closer to the nirvana than others.
At last we have the retail marketers taking us to the heavens, religion has become the most potent sales pitch. Religion is not the opiate of the masses, it is the Viagra for the marketers. No wonder that Marxism is dead.

As in every hunting, knowledge about the prey is crucial to success, and bargain hunting is no different. These are some useful tips, a sort of ground rules in the hunt for the best bargains in the jungle of retail shops. Avoid simple “Sale’s”, even when they plastered all over the shop windows. ‘Super Sales’ are always better, and one should never leave a ‘Mega Sale’ without a stab with the plastic weapon on the bargains.

‘Moving Sales’, one should never miss; it is like chasing a lion to its den for the final kill. First, attack at the ‘Moving Sale’, find out where the shop is moving to, and there will always be an ‘Opening Sale’ at the new location, the place make the final kill on the bargains. One can thoroughly enjoy this, chasing the prey all around the city to its new den, even when one might end up with the most useless item, third kitchen scale.

‘Closing Down’ sales are very tricky, one should avoid them. There is not much excitement in this hunt, it is like hunting a sick, old and wounded animal. I once bought my third car steering lock at a ‘Closing Down’ sale, and even after one month the shop did not close down. I took the matter to the Fair Trading Tribunal as a case of false advertising with no success. The shopkeeper testified that he ‘closed down’ the shop at the end of each day’s trading and that is all what he meant by the sign “Closing Down Sale”. It is a retail jungle out there, there are chameleons and phantoms.

‘Stock Take Sales’ have no rhyme on reason. When one has hired staff to count and check every stock item, why should one have a ‘Sale’, unless the damaged or life expired items are on ‘Sale’. Old stock, non-moving items would any how be out of fashion and no adrenalin will rush for this hunt. They are complete turn off on Serotonin, and no oniomaniac will be found dead in one.

Only once have I seen an ‘April Fools Day Sale’. Naturally the prices were higher than normal. There is no hunting here; you are being hunted by the shop keeper. Avoid these sales like quick sands.

Like any hunter one has to be in tune with the nature, in harmony with the seasons. Our forefathers knew that changing seasons confused the prey, good time to hunt. Never buy at ‘Winter Sales’ for example, always buy at the ‘End of Winter Sale’, that is when the hunting is at its best, buy some al-paca jumpers, that is closest to hunting the real one.

Animal liberationists are the sworn enemies of oniomaniacs. Bargain hunting for crocodile leather shoes and python skin belts have always brought man to his native instincts in the light and glass jungles of shopping malls. Hunting for animal fur and skin products is as close as one can get to the real thing, the big game hunt equivalent of the African savannahs; right at the shopping centre near you. Thanks to the animal liberationists, oniomaniacs can only reminisce of the good old days.

Living in this western world, with the primitive hunter instincts stoked by the “Sale’ signs of every hue, some times I long for the old days, and that is when I go back to my native village in India, and shop like a modern man. I go to the road junction at Mavoor road, pay the price the shop keeper asks, with no ‘Sale’ signs in sight; where basic human needs are supreme, not tarnished by the contrived hunter instincts; still waiting for a cure by Zaclin.