A few nights ago I started researching light bulbs. I wasn’t even trying to research light bulbs. I was actually trying to figure out why the limewash I’d just spent the weekend painting on my walls looked so yellow.
This is how I operate.
I have ~4 hours to myself after my daughter goes to bed. I try to shower and brush my teeth before I do bed time with her so that the rest of the hours are mine to spend as I like. Usually that means I get into bed, and instead of catching up on a show I’m 4 episodes behind on or getting 8+ hours of sleep, I decide I’ll look something up quickly. In this specific case, I decided to use this time to figure out whether a second coat of a different limewash color might fix the walls of my windowless hallway. Then I started to realize that maybe the problem isn’t even the limewash. Maybe it’s the lighting, which means I need to understand the temperature of my light bulbs.
Suddenly, I look up from my rabbit hole and ChatGPT paint renders and it’s close to 1 a.m.
I do this all the time and for whatever reason, there’s something about that time of night during the week that doesn’t even feel real to me. It’s almost like a fever dream of defiance and the pursuit of reclaiming “me time.” I can literally spend four hours trying to figure something out and not register that four hours have passed.
What’s even more interesting (to me at least) is that I don’t even particularly enjoy researching things, but I do really enjoy having researched them.
Please note the difference.
There are certain categories in my life that I consider settled. Laundry detergent is Dirty Labs. I also use their dishwasher detergent. I subscribe and I couldn’t tell you exactly what I pay for it. That’s between Dirty Labs and Amex. I truly do not care.
My cold brew is Wandering Bear. It just shows up. My body oil and exfoliating body wash come automatically through my Osea subscription. Same thing re: it appearing at my front door. There’s a specific Buck Mason t-shirt that, as long as they keep making it, means I never have to research the perfect white t-shirt again. La Roche-Posay makes the vitamin C serum I use. If I’m flying somewhere Delta flies, I’m likely flying Delta. I have status, I know how it works, and I don’t really compare the price against other airlines anymore.
These are some of my favorite purchases because I don’t think about them. Though I want to be clear that it’s not because I don’t care about them. Quite the opposite. It just means that I cared enough at some point that I spent ~4+ hours working to figure them out.
The Buck Mason t-shirt is a good example. If you told me tomorrow that someone had tested every white t-shirt on the planet and mine came in 17th place, I wouldn’t care. You couldn’t bait me into opening that search back up because my mind is made up.
I’ve tried enough t-shirts. I know what this one costs, I know how it fits and I know how I feel in it. Someone complimented me on it recently and I was all too jazzed to tell them exactly which one it was.
That’s another part of this operating model that I love.
Someone in a group chat asks, “Does anyone have a recco for xyz?” and I have the answer.
I’m not sharing 17 links. I’m not hedging and saying, “I’ve heard this one is good.” I have a definitive answer because I’ve done the research. I’ve bought the thing. I’ve lived with it. I still like it. I can tell you to buy it without adding six qualifications.
My decision has been validated.
I think for a long time I thought I was looking for the “best” things.
And I still think I want the “best,” but what I really mean is the thing that will make my brain stop humming. I want the best shampoo. The best white t-shirt. The best detergent. The best whatever it is I’ve decided I need.
And “best” can mean many different things.
The best skincare product for me is one that doesn’t break me out, makes my skin look good and makes me feel good using it. The best clothes are the ones that make me feel like the effortlessly chic, hot mom I aspire to be and keep my dry cleaning expenses to a minimum. Sometimes the best version is expensive. Sometimes it isn’t. Sometimes part of what makes something the best to me is knowing that I bought the original instead of the version that came afterward.
I’m aware of how that sounds, but if I buy the Zara version and every time I look at the thing I think about The Row, then to me that purchase wasn’t really the better deal.
The thing I have a harder time tolerating more than spending too much money is buying the wrong thing and then having to think about the fact that I bought the wrong thing. My brain will not let me forget it.
This is exactly why I still haven’t bought an Oura Ring.
I’ve researched it. I’ve thought about it. I’ve polled the masses. I’ve added it to cart. At this point the cost isn’t even the thing stopping me. My real concern is that I don’t know what more data would do for me, other than giving me something new to think about every morning. Like, I already know if I slept like shit? I digress.
The point is I don’t want another thing that asks something of me after I buy it. I quite literally want the opposite. Even if I don’t realize it at first, I am almost always asking the purchase to silence something, which is also why my research can get completely out of control.
I’ll find something perfectly acceptable on Chrome tab four and still open Chrome tab five. Could I get it cheaper? Faster? From somewhere more interesting? Is there a more authentic version? Is there a place that makes more sense to buy it from?
Recently I wanted an Alessi napkin holder. I liked the idea of ordering it from a European retailer, preferably an Italian one. Alessi is Italian. It felt more appropriate somehow, almost like an ode to the heritage of the thing.
Don’t be mad, but I bought it on Amazon.
The package of napkins sitting on my kitchen counter was taunting me and Amazon could have the solution at my house faster and without any customs fees.
In this case, heritage lost and Amazon won. (Sorry!)
This is probably the most honest version of how I shop. I can make a purchase incredibly complicated until one variable becomes important enough that everything else falls away.
And once I decide, I really want the decision to remain decided.
For a minute I thought the manufacturing specs of my Buck Mason t-shirts changed. I ordered new ones and compared them with the old ones and they seemed slightly different. The length seemed longer and the cotton seemed…pilly-er.
This was extremely alarming. A Buck Mason representative told me my theory was incorrect and I’m choosing to believe them though I was very close to reopening the white t-shirt investigation.
For now, the case remains closed, but there are plenty of others that aren’t.
Shampoo and conditioner are currently open. Parts of my skincare routine are open. Apparently my hallway lighting is now open, although a few days ago I didn’t know hallway lighting was a category that now required my opinion.
That’s the danger of research though. Sometimes instead of answering a question, it creates three more.
Limewash becomes light bulbs. Light bulbs become color temperature. Suddenly something that wasn’t even on my radar yesterday has become something I need to solve.
When that happens, my brain often short circuits and I walk away. But oddly enough, I don’t really resent the time spent.
If I spend from 8:30 p.m. until 1 a.m. figuring something out and eventually land on an answer that makes me feel excited or energized or more productive, I usually think it was worth it because more than anything I like solving problems.
I like doing it at work. I like doing it for my friends. I like doing it for my family. I like fixing things. Give me a problem with a finite set of possible answers and the opportunity to figure out which one makes the most sense, and I will happily sacrifice an entire evening to it.
A purchase is just a very low-stakes version of that. It’s also a good distraction from problems that don’t have a finite set of possible answers (but that’s for me and my therapist to figure out).
There was a time when I cared more about the illusion of having nice things, which sometimes meant fast fashion or home decor dupes. That has changed.
Now I care much more about having the right things and by that I don’t mean the fanciest thing. I love a nice purse and a beautiful pair of shoes. I love fragrance and beautiful objects for my home. I’m not going to pretend otherwise, but the thing, whatever it is, has to make sense for my actual life.
Perhaps that’s what all of this ladders up to.
I like looking around and feeling like the things in my life are there for a reason. That there’s a rationale. I chose this detergent because the scent transports me every time I put a shirt on. This t-shirt because I can throw it on and it looks put together. This Vitamin C serum because it doesn’t break me out and my skin looks noticeably brighter after consistent use.
Nothing feels random or scattered.
It makes me feel in control, I think. Maybe even successful in some small way.
My husband is even more extreme about this than I am.
He has had the same Arc’teryx ski jacket for like twenty years.
During our last ski trip, the zipper broke. He sent it back to Arc’teryx and they offered him a credit toward a new jacket, but he didn’t want a new jacket. He wanted his jacket.
He refused the credit and argued relentlessly with them about their warranty program until they fixed it and sent it back.
To him, the problem had already been solved twenty years ago. Why would he volunteer to solve it again?
Personally I don’t need my white t-shirt to last twenty years. I’ll buy another one when this one wears out, but already knowing which one I’m buying is so incredibly satisfying.
Maybe that’s the thing I’m willing to pay for. Not the best object in some objective ranking. Not even necessarily convenience. All I want is to make the decision once.
I want to do the ridiculous research, open the tabs, consider the alternatives, get it right, and then move on to something else.
Because I don’t actually want to stop thinking about things. I’m sure that if every category in my life were magically solved tomorrow, I’d eventually find another problem because I like the solving part too much.
I just want the satisfaction of knowing that when I solve one, I can leave it solved.
One quick note: Some links below are affiliate links; I may earn a small commission at no extra cost to you. As an Amazon Associate, I earn from qualifying purchases. I link to things I’ve bought, things I’ve rejected, and things I’m still deciding on. I’ll always say which.
Closed for now
Laundry + dishwasher detergent: Dirty Labs
Cold brew: Wandering Bear
Body oil + exfoliating body wash: Osea
Vitamin C serum: La Roche-Posay
White t-shirt: Buck Mason
Airline: Delta
Still open
Shampoo + conditioner
Skincare, partially
Hallway lighting (opened three days ago, against my will)
Oura Ring: in cart since spring