Justification is an art. When you’re short of funds, though not so short that buying something is entirely unlikely, you need to be able to justify it to yourself. You can’t just spend money on things that you just fancy having; you need to convince yourself, and, perhaps more importantly, you need to be able to convince others, and that’s always the hard part.
Like most Windows users, my first real Apple experience was the iPod. Well, not true; my first genuine experience was with Quicktime, which went from being a clunky, unfriendly media player to a clunky, unfriendly media player with a metallic look and feel to it. But my first real positive Apple experience has to have been the iPod. I wanted one for a long time and eventually hit upon the idea, one birthday/xmas not so long ago, of creating an iPod fund — when somebody asked me want I wanted for a gift, I’d ask them to donate to the fund and eventually I had my iPod and could get rid of the brick-like Creative Zen.
The difference between the two players was huge. Though, in terms of features, the Zen could easily beat the iPod, the difference in usability was the key; controlling the iPod after about a year of using the Zen was a revelation — it just worked perfectly. Intuitive, lightweight and reliable, it was a good advert for Apple.
The problem was, the rest of the Apple range of products were, though highly desirable, too expensive. I wanted a Mac but this wasn’t an impulse purchase, it was too much. So, the process of justification began. Months ago.
If not years.
It always begins with the Fantasy Buying Game. This game takes place when you’re bored at work and find yourself browsing ebay, Amazon, or in this case the Apple store. You start looking at the various products and imagining what you would be buying if you were buying anything at all. Then you start doing the maths and working out if you can afford anything, and you start mentally wondering what you could sell or how else you could finance what you want. After that, it becomes a slow game of chicken, with each play resulting in you getting closer and closer to hitting that final ‘confirm’ button. It is for this reason that I never take advantage of any of the various ‘one click’ purchase options; it’s just too dangerous.
Sometimes you might find yourself hitting that ‘confirm’ button but on, say, a Sunday, or late on a Friday, or a Bank holiday — some day in which your order won’t actually be processed for 24–48 hours. This gives you time to cancel, a safety margin, but it also allows you an opportunity to feel what it might be like to have actually purchased the thing. It might feel awful; you might be overwhelmed with guilt at having squandered your hard-earned, er, earnings on fancy shimmerings, Alternatively, you might feel really good about yourself. Either way, you will often, 90% of the time, still cancel the order at this point. After all, you weren’t really serious…were you? It’s ok, you cancelled the order, you’re fine, you’re safe. Breathe, whhheeewwwww.
Eventually, you lose. You always lose, because as time passes whatever you intended to buy only becomes more desirable. The price may drop a fraction, or you may discover how to knock a tiny, tiny percentage off with some sort of coupon. More features may be added, or the specifications may improve. Either way, you’re going to lose, and that was inevitable from the very start.
You need it because you’re weak.
Another three-paragraph diversion; let’s return to the Plot. I desired a Mac, and why not? The things look great, everyone raves about how usable they are, they…they look great. I’m a designer, and it seemed to be the designer’s platform of choice, so there had to be something in it. But I couldn’t afford one! The anglepoise iMac came and went and I longed, and the iBook and Powerbook set up residence and I continued to long, and then the tablet iMac turned up, and then the Mac Mini. Ah-ha! The Mac Mini! Now this had potential, until I realised who it was actually aimed at; it was a low-powered, feature-poor attempt at getting Ordinary Joe to switch from his virus- and porn-riddled Tiny, and bumping up the specs meant the price went too hgh. Foiled!
But then, there came a point when I could start justifying to myself why I needed an Apple Mac. For business reasons. Yes! That’s a killer. And it was true! I was working on websites that had to display correctly in Safari, which was made trickier by not actually having Safari. I was having to make random changes to my CSS, upload, email the person I was doing the work for, tell them I’d made some changes, ask them if that had fixed the display bugs, receive a screenshot, and repeat. It wasn’t easy. Thus, having a Mac meant I could save valuable hours by doing my own testing and debugging. Cunning, no?
I decided on an iBook, because it was good enough for testing on and having a laptop meant I could wander around Oxford’s Famous Oxford with it, take it with me when visiting friends and relatives, and basically display to the world that I’m a giant, stinking ponce. I reasoned that I could almost, sort-of afford the £700 iBook as well; it could be paid off with a couple of design jobs fairly soon. So, I had justified the purchase to myself, and the ‘business reasons’ argument would be good for shutting up the naysayers.
But!
There were rumours of new iBooks coming out. The iMac was updated, as was the eMac, so I waited…and waited…and waited…but nothing happened. This was frustrating; I’d convinced myself that I was buying the damn thing but the waiting went on for months with no end in sight. Luckily, convincing myself that I could afford to spend £700 meant that convincing myself to spend £1000 wasn’t nearly as difficult. And now, I type this on a 12″ Apple Powerbook. And it’s gorgeous.