Once upon a time, everything I have was new to me.
- Everything in my closet was once new and I couldn’t wait to wear it.
- Our car used to have that new-car smell.
- My husband was once my new boyfriend.
I still have the same clothes I felt like a new person in when I was in the department store dressing room, the car still runs great, and my husband is as sweet and handsome as ever. The only difference is, now they’re worn and comfortable, instead of fresh and new.
What is it about new stuff that gets us so excited? We’ll enter stores with signs promising antiques and vintage goods, but who wants to shop at a store that sells worn and comfortable merchandise? Doesn’t that mean the goods are used? If I can afford new, why would I buy something used, right?
We’re probably less intrigued by our own used goods because we know the kind of care and abuse they’ve been through. We want to feel fresh and new again, so we seek out people and goods we haven’t potentially screwed up yet.
- New clothes fit the body we have and the way we feel today. They update our personal packaging – as though we have a brand new marketing campaign.
- A new car wouldn’t have that dent in the bumper from where you ran into a stationary object.
- New people don’t know our faults. In fact, they only know what we tell them, and we can tell our stories and jokes for the first time all over again. We get another chance to impress.
We need to start referring to new stuff as what it is. Inexperienced.
No one wants to hire an entry-level (new) employee for a job requiring experience, so why do we like “new” so much? New hasn’t gone through the training process. New jeans are stiff, and new shoes give blisters. The insurance is even higher on new. New takes you all the way back to square one.
Before you spend a fortune on new clothes, a new car, or bestow more attention and affection on new friends, remember that new will also be old one day; and, your old will always be new to someone else.