Breaking up with Jujube
Let’s face it. Being a mother in Singapore means getting acquainted with a few big names in the mummy apparel business. In order to be upgraded into a ‘premium’ mummy, one is expected to own a slew of Jujube diaper bags, limited addition Tula baby carriers and a whole collection of ultra comfortable Lularoe leggings (preferably in rare AKA ‘unicorn’ prints).
When my friends first added me into the Jujube Facebook groups, I hated the bags and promptly left all the Facebook groups. I particularly detested the Tokidoki prints that featured a whole spectrum of cartoon characters. “Too gaudy and childish for me.” I thought. But after trying out alternative diaper bags that were cheaper but not very ergonomic, I realised that I really wanted a Jujube. It did not help that I was residing in Sengkang, one of the most densely baby populated heartlands of Singapore. There were so many young mothers here who were carrying jujube. I really wanted to fit in and be like them.
It was a slippery slope. Before I knew it, I was waiting online for jujube new launches – eagerly waiting to play the fastest fingers first to purchase jujube bags in new fabric patterns.
When Unikiki 2.0 was about to launch, I remember leaving my son in the playpen and begging him to keep quiet for a good ten minutes so that mummy could get the swanky new unikiki 2.0 diaper bag. My son was screaming his head off but I endured. I stared at the screen and refreshed it countless number of times until the new bags were finally launched. Yet, I could not get one. My fingers were not fast enough. That day, I tasted bitter disappointment.
At that moment, I thought to myself: “This is just a bag. Why am I neglecting my Son to buy it? Isn’t the bag supposed to benefit my son? Isn’t it there for the purpose of storing things for my son so that I can bring him out for his doctor’s appointments? If so, why must it be of that particular print? Wouldn’t any print also serve the same purpose?” That was when I started observing that my obsession with Jujube was brimming on avarice. Being a mother is not easy. I was just seeking a distraction. And Jujube offered me one.
I will spare you my sordid obsession with Oscha baby wraps and Lularoe. They both followed the same general pattern as my relationship with Jujube. I wanted more. I thought that more would make me happy but after looking at cardboards full of bags, wraps and clothing, I just felt miserable. I was and am a stay at home mother with no income. Yes, I had enough money (i.e. allowance from my hubby) to indulge on these occasional splurges but it never felt right. My husband had sporadic but intense complaints about his job. I knew at the back of my mind that it was only a matter of time before he resigned or offended some one so much that he was fired. I was worried that if that should happen, all these possessions would only weigh me down with intense guilt and shame. I might even have to start working, leaving my son at infant care in order to finance my insatiable appetite for material goods.
In my mind I could very vividly visualise an image of my son and I separated by a large chasm filled with pretty things. I am at one end and he was at the other end. In between us were countless Jujube bags, Oscha wraps and Lularoe clothing. I spoke to him tearfully, “I’m sorry Benny, mummy has to work go to work in order to afford all these things. I’m sorry that I have to leave you in childcare. I have no choice. I love you but I love pretty things too.”
The guilt ripped at my heart every time I looked at my stashes of bags and wraps. Therefore, when we first embarked on my quest to minimalism, those mummy things were the first to go. I sold them on various platforms often at ridiculously low prices to get them off my hand. Many of my mummy friends were concerned that I had lost my mind. I could not adequately explain to them the guilt I felt owning these things. These objects had ‘voices’, a concept coined by Fumio sasaki in goodbye things. Even when I was not looking right at them, they were speaking to me behind the doors of the built in cabinets reminding me of my avarice. I needed them out of my home. I did not mind selling them at below retail value. In fact, I would have given them away if no one had wanted to buy them. The key motive was to get them out of my house. After the last jujube diaper bag left my house, i felt a great relief. I had entirely lost my desire for these bags.
The same was true for Oscha wraps. I destashed them so aggressively that my husband was worried. I felt much lighter though. No longer will these possessions or the desire for more of them come in the way of my son and I.
Goodbye Jujube, Oscha and Lularoe. You served me well, it was I who misused you as a distraction from the pains of motherhood. I am no longer a worthy owner of you guys and I no longer trust myself to be around you guys. It is goodbye for now and hopefully forever. I love you guys but I love my son and my family so much more. Toodles!



Goodbye my Jujubes
