Life After Amazon…and Target
I was an Amazon Prime member for nearly a decade, but it wasn’t until the pandemic that my relationship with e-commerce behemoth really got out of control. Like placing orders daily of the kinds for things I could have bought at the bodega if I had the courage to go bad. I was making the most money I’ve ever made at the time and couldn’t leave the house to spend it, which was a terrible combination. Since then, I’ve tried to cancel Amazon Prime a few times and have always given in before my benefits had time to expire. But this time, it’s different. I made a deal with myself that I would stop shopping at Amazon on election day, planning to transfer my allegiance all the way over to Target. But before I could use my new Circle membership, Target was off the table, too.
Even with the good fortune to live in a major city with infinite small, local businesses within walking distance, it can be difficult to source your more particular necessities. Where exactly are you going to find a replacement for a mirrored closet door handle and a case of that very particular brand of tomato-free vegetable broth you like all in one place with one-day delivery? Amazon’s value proposition is undoubtedly strong. I was determined and optimistic, but then I needed to buy hangers.
I got it in my head that only those multiple-garment hangers you see in informercials could clear up my closet space problem, and I knew I couldn’t find them at the local dollar store, so I headed to Google, where I discovered that I could buy a set of two for $15 at Amazon or get them for $25 a pop at Wayfair, which isn’t even a more ethical store choice. And yet I persisted.
It took almost two months for my $100 set of 4 hangers to arrive intact from Wayfair. I was not expecting I’d have to self-assemble $25 dollar hangers to being with, so imagine my surprise when the delivery initially arrived after two weeks with half the parts missing. I hopped on the customer service chat to request a replacement and was greeted by a series of customer service agents who took about 5 minutes to respond ended every missive with a curt “Are you still there?” before I could even finish reading, and then promptly hung up on me if it took me more than 5 seconds to hit send in return.
After several tries, I was finally able to hold on to an agent long enough for them to tell me that a replacement was out of the question, and that they could only refund me or send me replacement parts. Two weeks later, I got an email that replacement parts were no longer available and they would now send a full replacement. Frustrated, I ordered a cheaper version from TikTok shop that would arrive before well before the replacement set. None of the packages I received contained enough parts to be fully assembled, and yet I was too tired to carry on. I have almost enough hangers for my pants now. And these were purchases I made from popular online stores with ethics no less questionable than Amazon’s.
In the past few months I’ve ordered:
A set of tiered skirt hangers (the closet organization continues) from Michael’s, of all places, that arrived in a a box stamped “Modern Walled Transparent Rose Round Plates-10 pieces” as if the company was caught completely off guard by my order and, casting about the warehouse for a solution, one intrepid employee who had recently had a Pottery Barn order delivered to the office said, “Maybe we can just use the box these came in?”
10 bottles of Essie nail polish to meet the free shipping minimum from a store called Beauty Barn or something like it. They did not have any Trustpilot reviews but that didn’t stop me. Now I question if all my spam emails and calls are from that one order.
Most of my other self-care essentials directly from the company’s shoddy website, because I can’t find a stockist. These orders usually charge for shipping AND package protection and arrive in boxes approximately 20x the size of the products inside.
A tote bag and pin from a local bookstore, after going to buy them in person and being told they were out of stock. I went home and saw that both were listed available for in-store pick up on the website, so I placed the order, got an email that they were ready an hour later, and went BACK to the store to get them.
It all feels reminiscent of the time I filled a prescription at a mom-and-pop pharmacy and grabbed a can of dog food on my way to the register only for the cashier to tell me not to buy it. It was display-only dog food, probably expired, that you weren’t supposed to actually BUY. In a STORE. I should have known. In the age of Amazon, it seems most online stores, and even some brick and mortar retailers, aren’t expecting, or even desiring, your business. Are we so far past the retail breaking point that it’s too late to turn back? I hope not.
And to be clear, this is not to discourage you from cutting Amazon out of your life, but simply to say: “Jeff Bezos, I hate you this much.”
What’s the weirdest place you’ve shopped while boycotting?
LOL what a great and frustrating read. It’s so exasperating, isn’t it?! This totally parallels my experiences when trying to stray from the villainous corporate conveniences. Today I drove to two gas stations and finally a smoke shop where I finally found and bought the last two sets of a basic brand of rolling papers (not for me, for a friend!).