To dry or not to dry, that was the question
It was 1 am, and I couldn't sleep. A battle was raging in my mind and I couldn't seem to put an end to it.
I had made a decision I regretted, browsing the major online shopping platform Taobao right before bed. There was no escape from the Double 11 (Nov 11) promotion, which immediately ambushed my screen and my better judgment along with it.
I found myself drawn to a sleek wash-and-dry set. Not only was it a perfect match for my apartment's white decor, but it was also heavily discounted, nearly 1,000 yuan ($140.5) off its already reduced price due to the nationwide appliance subsidy.
My old washing machine was still functioning well enough, though it had served me for about a decade. So why not replace it now? What could be a better time than this? That thought launched me on a long and winding odyssey of consumer deliberation.
Minutes later, I was lost in the depths of product research. I scrolled through endless online reviews, watched unboxing videos, and learned about dryers — who should buy one, who shouldn't, and what pitfalls to avoid. For the next hour, I questioned everything: energy consumption, maintenance costs, and the supposed convenience of owning one.
But the more I learned, the less sure I became.
Just six hours earlier, I had told my colleagues in the office that dryers were unnecessary in the North. The dry air naturally dried clothes overnight, I claimed. Yet here I was, scrutinizing the model on sale, wondering if owning a dryer might actually simplify my life.
Paradoxically, my research only gave me more reasons to buy, besides the slashed price.
That was when I started actively justifying my imagined need. I thought back to the time during the pandemic when my mother, obsessed with cleanliness, insisted on hanging our duvet outside to air it out. I had raised my voice to stop her, and I thought a dryer could solve that issue.
I would also be spared from those tedious tasks of putting piles of clothes one by one on hangers or drying heavy bed sheets and duvet covers. And let's not forget the eyesore of the clothes-drying rack that has occupied a third of my balcony for years.
Those usually faint irritants were suddenly magnified, and the appeal was undeniable at this point.
With the ticking clock, the discount would expire at midnight, and after more than one hour of back-and-forth, I crossed the bridge, handed over 4,000 yuan and clicked "Confirm Order".
But the moment I made the purchase, a strange unease settled over me. As I lay in bed, wide awake, I questioned my decision. Was it a rational choice, or had I fallen prey to the allure of a deal too good to miss?
The mental toll of this purchase seemed to have invaded my sleep. Why is consumerism so difficult these days? I recalled going through similar troubles when buying my laptop, vacuum and razors. What was it about the urge to buy that made me question something so seemingly simple?
Based on all the product review posts and videos, it seems I'm not the only pebble on the beach who scrutinizes the fine print and analyzes ingredient labels before buying a snack. Growing public awareness, better education, and increasingly sophisticated product variations have collectively transformed shopping into an unexpectedly complex decision-making process.
By constantly highlighting the myriad aspects of our lives that could be improved, livestream sales force us, the consumers, to balance the inner scale.
In the end, I wasn't sure if the time I spent pondering the decision and the interrupted sleep were worth it. The constant pressure to make the "right" choice feels overwhelming.
But there's no turning back now — the wash-and-dry set is on its way. I've come to see this less as a simple purchase and more as a lesson in understanding my own desires, as well as in learning the technicalities of electrical appliances. Who knows? It might just come in handy someday.
Will it truly save me time, or simply become another quiet appliance taking up space? I can't say for sure. Only time will tell.
