The other day after lunch I finally started experiencing withdrawal symptoms from being denied my bi-weekly dose of retail therapy over the past six weeks. I was bored. I was grumpy. I found myself wondering what had happened to that handbag I’d had my eye on in John Lewis at the end of February. I started missing little things like popping into Waterstones and fiddling with accessories like book lights and pen pouches and browsing the brightly coloured stationery and pretty notebooks in Paperchase.

I had already been for a long walk, read some of my new book, listened to music while cleaning the kitchen and phoned my mother. I resented being shut in and denied the pleasure of browsing the shops and not having bought any clothing or accessories since early March. In the end, I ordered two nail varnishes and some lip gloss for myself and a plum pencil eye liner for my daughter from Superdrug online. I enjoyed selecting the colour and brand and look forward to applying my pink lip gloss on one of those bleak and cloudy lockdown Monday mornings.

A few days later, I read somewhere about the 'Lipstick Effect,' a term coined by the chairman of Estee Lauder in 2001 when he observed a trend that lipstick sales were "inversely correlated to economic health". In a recession, women still want and need to feel good about themselves and treat themselves to small indulgences. It appears that there is a natural desire to make ourselves more attractive even in the midst of an economic downturn. Many women want their lashes to be longer and thicker, their lips to be coloured and glossy and to wear a rich new scent. An uplifting treat can give a sense of self-confidence, a feeling of vitality in a time of uncertainty without having too big an effect on her funds.

Apparently, this idea of affordable luxury within a recession crosses all cultures. Since the start of this lockdown, I imagine people have been making plenty of small luxury purchases online. A scented candle, a new doormat, a new gadget; these shopping habits are part of our psychological well-being and simply make us feel better.

A myriad of studies has been carried out on consumer behaviour over the years. In 2009, Euromonitor, a market research blog, carried out a study on the 2008 recession across Europe. They discovered the obvious, that nobody was buying big ticket items. Instead, Germans were buying good quality chocolate and the French were going for ice-cream. Italians turned their attention to textile furnishings to freshen up bed coverings, cushions and curtains. American sales in mascara and nail polish spiked, and in the UK, we apparently wanted comfort food and hair colourant!

Savouring shopping experiences is not just about accumulating ‘things.’ We come home with something new and fresh, a new novel, a new pair of earrings, a new top. Is it such a crime to get distracted from ourselves for an hour or so once or twice a week? We’re not particularly goal-oriented or in analytical mode. We’re just fully immersed ‘in the zone’; for half an hour we’ve forgotten about our messy kitchen or about having to help our child with their gruesome maths homework later that day. We forget about our work stresses or an upcoming trip to the dentist.

I have a friend who revels in the chaos of TK Maxx in the Christmas season or on a busy Saturday afternoon. She comes alive when it’s time to find a bargain and will happily rummage for the prettiest make up bag. For her, shopping is a way to seek out and focus on the beauty of things. “If this lockdown keeps up, we’re all going to end up having to look within, instead of browsing for another handbag!” she confides.

In the Stone Age, we’re told that women went out to gather berries, nuts and seeds, taking their time to select the good from the bad, observing, checking freshness and edibility, probably alongside other women in the tribe. So, going ‘gathering or ‘shopping’ was a social event even then, moving from tree to tree rather than shop to shop! We delight in comparing different colours of the same item while lingering on the touch of soft leather gloves or the warmth of a cashmere scarf. Like anything we enjoy, it is to be savoured and something we delight in. It has a value to us, we’re curious about how things are packaged. It’s about getting distracted, seeing new designs and following our natural inclination to collect and accumulate.

Of course, some men like to shop, and some women don’t, but evolutionary psychology tells us that for men, shopping is a ‘conquest’ and for women it is a ‘foraging.’ In prehistoric times, men had to hunt and kill an animal to survive. Once the animal was dead, they’d pick it up and go straight home. If you left an animal for too long, other animals would start to eat it or it would go bad. This may explain the sense of urgency that men feel for shopping to be over after making their purchase, which leads them to feel stressed. I read online somewhere that in a shopping mall in Germany, they seem to have found a solution and have set up a sort of a day care centre for men where they can hang out, drink beer and play with power tools while their partner goes shopping. I tell my husband and he beams with delight. “Really? That sounds brilliant!”

Once the lock down ends there will be such a euphoric feeling in the air. Some women may re-emerge with stronger self-discipline while shopping, but I think it is more likely that many husbands and partners may hear the phrase: “Just leave me alone to shop and nobody gets hurt!”

  • Marisa Laycock moved to St Albans in 2000. She enjoys sharing her experiences of living in the city. These columns are also available as podcasts from 92.6FM Radio Verulam at www.radioverulam.com/smallcitylife