Amayzine

If you have something in your cart and it suddenly goes out of stock

It is a sport, that whole shopping. More than a sport it becomes when something is no longer available.

Then it just becomes an ordinary fight. You know it well. That dress has been happily hanging in your shopping cart for days. Your size is there, you like it, but oh, there is still some doubt and definitely no rush. Maybe you'll find something even nicer. You take your time. You check that cart again a day or two later. Dress gone. Sold out. No longer in your size. Not even in a smaller or larger size. Panic sets in. Now you want it more than ever. Now it’s your favorite dress that you MUST have and quickly too. Frantically you go on Google. Where can you still get that thing? Somewhere in China, AliExpress, or worse… Marktplaats?

That's how I went to look last week at the Artipoppe wraps. You know, those trendy leopard prints that are specially made for babies. I wanted one anyway, but suddenly there was a forty percent discount. I had to get one. With a discount. But of course, sold out within three seconds. After a lot of emails and pleas and sad stories about a twin pregnancy, it was finally allowed: I could order one with the discount. Score. Winning. Succeeded. Happier than I would have been if the wrap was just online, you understand. This was a winning match that tasted sweet.

Why is it that we especially want what we cannot have? It's a bit of psychology, of course, because that's how it is with so many things, not just dresses and slightly overpriced baby wraps. What is unattainable is all the more interesting. Scarcity makes something beloved. Just like that guy who never texts back. Just like that study that seems just a bit too tough. That one job that is just too heavy. Running that marathon in three hours and fifteen minutes. Not one minute, but five minutes holding that plank. You want what you don’t have yet, what you can’t do yet, precisely because we humans are always looking for a challenge. It keeps us off the streets.

So also with that clothing and those online empty shopping carts. I already said it: it is a real sport. Not an Olympic one, not quite, but it comes close. Keep searching then, when your cart suddenly gives an error. You can do it. And it feels even better when it hangs in your closet after a little setback after all, believe me. I would love to wear that Artipoppe already, babies still in the belly. But alright, I have patience. In the meantime, I’ll entertain myself with some other half-empty shopping carts.