Finally, a Shopping Guide About Stupid Impulse Buys
Welcome to the Strategist, a new site for helping you shop the internet. It is edited by people (not robots), and is designed to surface the most useful, expert recommendations for things to buy across the vast e-commerce landscape. Most online shopping advice comes in the form of not particularly helpful roundups and slideshows. Our hope is to find the stuff out there that is actually worth buying — products that are really good and that we fully believe in.
—The Strategist, a product of NY Magazine, introducing itself
Commerce Content is independent of Editorial and Advertising, and if you buy something through our posts, we may get a small share of the sale. Click here for more.
—The Inventory, a product of G/O Media, introducing itself
Now, no media conglomerate is complete without a product curatorial platform.
Vox Media, through NY Magazine, hosts The Strategist, while G/O Media, the conglomerate that owns the charred out remains of Gawker as well as erstwhile comedy trend-setter The Onion, launched The Inventory in 2018. These upscale, intelligent versions of the Sunday Saver publish deal round-ups, product rankings and reviews, and holiday shopping guides for every demographic. Their demeanor highlights the intelligent clientele they court: “The Strategist” will help you become the Eisenhower or Grant of deal hunting, whereas The Inventory’s tagline, a cheeky play-on-words, is “It’s all consuming.” Another marker of their audience’s values is a running series at The Strategist called “What They Can’t Live Without,” telling you the products that celebrities use in their day-to-day. Celebrities, so like us, shop. And, now that we can shop like them, well, they could be like us just a little bit more.
All of these publications receive commissions when you buy a product after clicking an inline link, the same business model that Instagram influencers use. It makes sense that as ad revenue falls, media conglomerates would diversify their revenue streams, and stealing an idea from a younger industry is strategic during economic reorderings.
With this revenue model, it’s easy to see why these sites are very upbeat about shopping. Products are never panned. The closest that these sites get to negative reviews are rankings of competing products, where some item necessarily has to be on the bottom of the list. But, these rankings often partition their products not based on quality, but based on which, say, robot vacuum “works best for you and your budget.” Never would a robot vacuum ranking tell you not to buy a robot vacuum. It would just allow you to pinpoint what amount of AI you will need in yours.
Slate’s version of this service is called Picks. While Picks features many of the issues highlighted above, curating products that are “the definition of self-care” and turning indulgences into smart gifting choices, they also have the most honest account of online shopping that I’ve seen: We Thought Buying This Stuff Would Make 2020 Better. Boy Were We Wrong. Here, Slate staff members review the worst impulse buys they’ve made during the pandemic.
I’ll highlight some of my favorite entries here.
Mini Hexagon Glass Jars
I had an ambitious plan to can some preserves, but these were much tinier than expected. What are these even good for? —Jonathan Zuckerman, website developer
Pez Candy Single Flavor 5 lb Bulk Bag (Grape)
Impulse splurge before the first time seeing my niece in months. Way too much Pez for a 4-year-old, so I’ve been stuck with what seems like a lifetime Pez candy supply. Worst part: My partner, who eats them without a dispenser, leaves the wrappers everywhere! —Molly Gallagher, programmatic ad-ops manager
Zacurate Fingertip Pulse Oximeter
I bought it because of that one piece and I regret it because I never got COVID! But there’s still time. —Dan Kois, senior writer
I adore the variety of shopping bungles. The preserve jar example is particularly human—who hasn’t bought supplies in bulk for a new hobby that never comes to fruition? And of course, the insult in the injury: these jam jars are too small, regardless of the staying power of the writer’s commitment to preserve. I know this feeling well. I used to buy a new sketchbook every few years, telling myself I’d finally learn the fundamentals of drawing, or take up collage again.
The all-consuming desire to spoil loved ones during this annus horribilis is also well understood, even if Pez is a piss-poor expression of this feeling. And Kois bemoaning not getting COVID, thus rendering his panic purchase useless, reflects eloquently the hope, dread, nonchalance, and fatalism of these times.
Now, of course, as with all articles on Picks, there’s a link to Amazon next to each of these disastrous purchases. And each of these links have “?tag=slatmaga-20” hidden at the end of the URL—“slatmaga” being not a fascist bed frame company, but an affiliate tag for Slate magazine. So, if you want a laptop canopy that doesn’t work, or more Pez than a niece could ever ask for, you can click through and support The Slate Group.
But it’s progress, and elevates the genre from merely emulating the influencer economy to something with journalistic value. It’s a compelling slice-of-life piece, exploring the pandemic through stupid purchases. The introductory paragraph summarizes some of the thoughts I’ve shared on this blog: “We’ve spent this year feeling stuck and anxious, searching everywhere for both meaning and relief. Sometimes, we have directed that search toward the things we could purchase on the internet. Often, that has not yielded great results.” And on the fiscal side of things, it is as audacious as if Belle Delphine took pictures in unflattering makeup, tagged Sephora, and said “What are these even good for?” More of this emerging genre of publication should look to Picks if they want to call themselves journalists.