Online shopping - the smart way to get fashion bargains, or a clinical approach without the thrill of the sartorial chase? ROSEMARY MACCABEtalks to some avid online hunters and admits to her own online shopping addiction 'There's that excitement when you arrive home and there's a package waiting for you, it's a bit of a buzz'
'YOU CAN DO it 24/7 from the comfort of your own home; there's a much bigger variety; there are no queues, and a lot of the time there are better discounts." The topic is online shopping, and the speaker is Aislinn O'Toole, an account executive at Dublin-based PR company Presence, who says she will buy "anything that can be got for better value" online. "I even got my car on the internet."
Irish consumers are 10th in the world for their online shopping habit so it would appear that while we've slowed our conspicuous consumption, inconspicuous spending that can be done in the privacy of our own homes lets us put our shame aside.
But is it really the privacy that entices us, or is it the convenience? "I find shopping online a lot easier. You have an endless range of products at your fingertips that you'll never have in a store - and that particularly applies when you're shopping for menswear," says Irishman Barry Harbison, a banker based in Manhattan, where he is surrounded by stores day and night.
"It's a little better in New York, but if you're at home in Ireland, stores just don't have the same range of products - you could be on Zappos [ an online shoe and accessories store based in the US] and buy football boots, golf shoes, work shoes, flip flops, whatever it is you want."
Harbison uses apps to aid his shopping: "I have the Gilt and the Rue La La [ invitation-only designer discount sites] apps for my iPhone, so I pretty much look at them every day."
You don't have to be technologically savvy to do your shopping online and you don't even have to be particularly sensible. "Shoes and clothes shopping can be a disaster online," says Catherine Flynn, digital director at Dublin advertising agency Rothco. "Sizes differ so much from brand to brand. I bought a dress on [ UK fashion site] Asos.com a few months ago. It looked great and was only £30, but a month later I was on my third return, trying to get a size and colour that fit - and the dress wasn't that great after all. So I rarely buy anything fitted, or shoes online, unless I've tried them on in 'the real world'."
Harbison's "worst online shopping experience" was buying tickets to a World Cup game in South Africa on eBay, but when he got there, an expensive trans-Atlantic flight later, his seller didn't turn up. "But we got a refund from the credit-card company for fraud, and we got to see a couple of other games, so it wasn't the end of the world.
"It wouldn't stop me doing the same again. I'm aware any time I deal with stuff like that, there's always a risk you're not getting what you think you're getting, or that you're not getting it at all."
Beyond the risks, the time-saving and the convenience, the real draw of online shopping is price. Although the euro has now weakened compared to the pound, there are still big savings to be made by purchasing on sites that sell in UK sterling, rather than euro - especially if those sites have stores in the Republic, from which you can easily compare prices. Example? A pair of black, suede ankle boots purchased on Topshop.com for £80 (roughly €96) that arrived within four days, with a nifty price sticker on the sole that revealed the savings. The same boots were €122 in an Irish store.
"The price advantage in terms of clothes is the biggest thing," says Dena Walker, account manager at digital advertising company Irish International in Dublin. "The difference between shopping somewhere like Topshop.com and Topshop on Grafton Street is phenomenal. I could buy a pair of jeans for €65, or I could buy online for £41 [ €49]."
Walker, originally from Manchester, buys a lot of gifts online to send to friends and family back home. "Books and music are really expensive over here, compared to the UK - I can buy gifts online and have them shipped home, often for free. It would make no sense to buy them here and then pay the postage and packaging to send home, even if they were cheaper to begin with."
But where's the thrill of the chase? Isn't there something clinical, something entirely detached, about shopping online, as opposed to the rush of real-life shopping, where you emerge, sweaty and triumphant, from the rails of clothing, must-have items in hand, and go home to slot them into your wardrobe or, better yet, take them out on the town? "I love going around the shops," says Flynn. "I love trying things on . . . the instant gratification, you don't get that online. You get the thrill of browsing and the purchase, but then there's the wait, and the possibility that it won't suit."
But for O'Toole, the thrill of online shopping is in the wait, and in the arrival of the package itself. "There's that excitement when you arrive home and there's a package waiting for you, it's a bit of a buzz. It's got to the stage now where I forget what I bought so when it comes, it's a total surprise."
THREE TOP FASHION SITES
Asos.com has one of the biggest selections of labels online. Items from Vivienne Westwood, the achingly hip Swedish brand Acne and jeans giants Current/Elliott sit alongside clothing from high-street retailers such as Oasis, Warehouse and Karen Millen. UK-based Asos has recently started accepting Laser - but beware, once you click the "Laser" option, items are quickly converted into euro, and you might miss out on sterling benefits you can retain by using a Visa or Mastercard.
Topshop.com features fashion-forward items from everyone's high-street hero. There are big savings across the euro-sterling divide, as well as access to labels and items that don't make it to the Irish stores. Watch out for designer collaborations hitting the site 24 hours before they hit the store, and sign up to the newsletter for notification of free Irish shipping and special discounts.
Net-a-porter.com is not for the faint-hearted. It stocks high-end brands from Marc Jacobs to Diane von Furstenberg and Mulberry, as well as more-difficult-to-locate (in Ireland at least) labels such as Preen, Peter Pilotto and Marios Schwab. Deliveries come in beautiful, sturdy black boxes, wrapped carefully in black tissue paper, and are definitely a more welcome postal surprise than another hefty Visa bill - although they may well contribute to same.
MY SHOPPING ADDICTION
WHEN I WAS about 16, my dad decided it was time to have a "stern talk" about my shopping habits. It was summer and I was working in a boutique in the Stephen's Green Centre for pocket money.
The problem was, the money never quite got into my pocket. It bounced straight back into the till from whence it came, in exchange for a new pair of jeans (40 per cent discount - sure, they were practically free).
He said, very seriously: "I'm really worried about you. You'll never be able to afford a car, or a house, or . . ." He trailed off, brows furrowed, lower lip quivering. "Really, you need to be sensible. Save half, and spend half."
Off I trotted, attempting to look as if I was deep in thought. I was like the proverbial king in his counting house, except that, instead of counting out money, I was counting out jeans. Surely 24 pairs is an achievement in itself?
I can now say, proudly, that I took his advice on board and consistently save half and spend half of my earnings. Within the first week of the pay month. After that, I consistently take money out of my savings until I have spent that, at which point I move on to my old friend, my Visa (or my more old-fashioned friend, my overdraft) until I am forced to sit in a stupor of non-consumption for, oh, about four days, awaiting payday.
Recent purchases? A Burberry mac, at the cost of around €480, from Net-a-Porter. It's an investment, I tell myself. What successful woman doesn't, at some stage of her life, own a Burberry mac?
A tan leather aviator jacket with shearling lining from Asos.com, at £110 (€132). I am under no illusions about this purchase; I bought this jacket because the world of fashion says it is this season's "must-have". I may never wear it, as I'm just not that cool. But I feel a sense of satisfaction.
A pair of black peep-toe suede ankle boots from Topshop.com (£80/€96). A friend at work, when they arrive, gestures at them: "Are they the boots you're sending back?" I waver. Peep-toe and suede don't quite seem the most practical bedfellows. She tries them on. On her slender calves, they look almost like Acne's Atacoma wedges (at €400-plus), which I have been resisting buying. The boots stay.
A navy floral tea dress from Topshop.com (£45/€54). I have a weakness for patterns, and for tea dresses, despite being neither 14 years old nor Sienna Miller.
When it arrives, it looks tiny, although it fits well enough. It is, however, entirely see-through. "Oh well!" I chirp. "An excuse to wear one of my eight vintage slips I bought in Amsterdam on a whim."
In my mind, you see, those are the best purchases - the things that give you an excuse to wear the other things you have nothing to go with. The circle of sartorial life, if you will. Hakuna matata, dad. I may not have a house, but I have a dress to go with my vintage slips. At last. RMC
