The midlife guide to what your grocery shopping says about you... Take our quiz and find out
Other people’s sex lives? They can keep them. We have reached sex saturation. We’d really rather not know. Unless it’s disgracefully pervy and you feel the need to share. In which case, answers on a postcard please: it would surely be a dereliction of duty if we didn’t pay attention. But, generally, sex gossip has lost its lustre. Too easy.
Other peoples’ shopping baskets, though? A public display of private passions. A glimpse into the whys and wherefores of a life. Ooh, I wonder if that lasagne for two is actually for two or just being bought because a lasagne for one is so dispiritingly small?
And those roses look a bit ‘trafficked’ – surely he’s (aged about 25, suit, bad shoes) not going to present them to someone? Oh, maybe he’s expecting to take that someone back to his flat (dark, stripy sheets and duvet cover that don’t show the dirt, but very expensive coffee machine).
And that lady is on a diet. She’s only buying green things. I wish I was on a diet. Maybe I am on a diet. As of… now. Oh look, she’s fingering those Percy Pigs. Buy them, buy them, buy them. Yes!
Are shopping baskets windows into the soul? They’re certainly a satisfying form of curtain twitching. Supermarket own brand? Sensible, tight or broke. Quilted loo paper? Only the best. Margarine. Really? Margarine? Is it 1953? Gosh. Margarine.
And on goes the judgement and the imagined narrative. We tell ourselves stories as we queue for the till. Stories only punctuated by, ‘Why hasn’t she got her card out by now? Everything’s been rung up. Why is she so intensely leisurely? I don’t understand.’ Let’s drill down…
