It is only the greatest of privileges to have the ultimate freedom when it comes to which stores you shop from.
In college, one of the biggest realizations I had came from noticing how the people around me had yet to realize this, but I guess, on its own, that itself is an indication of said privilege.
Take a specific conversation I had with my friend in our sophomore year of high school, for example. While back then it was really more of an argument, I strongly believe that if we had been older, it would have been drastically more peaceful.
A conversation had arisen amid my excitement because my mother had just sent me some money to buy myself new clothes. While this was something that might’ve been considered usual for others, it meant the world to me.
With a limit of around $80 and a closet filled with unnecessary pieces, I needed an entirely new wardrobe. So, where could I shop that was cheap and affordable enough for me to make this closet transformation happen?
Shein.
At the time, my friend’s argument was very direct and left no room for change. Shein was already known for over-exploiting their workers and being associated with child labor, and in his eyes, that was enough to completely write it off. To him, it was simple—why would I ever choose to buy from an industry that participates in such heinous acts?
There was no consideration for circumstance, no pause to think about why someone might turn to a brand like that in the first place. It was just wrong, period.
But that is where he was mistaken. I think growing up, adulting and just generally learning more about the world, it was easy for me to realize where he and I both were, even though in the heat of the moment, I was livid.
Had I been born into a financially comfortable environment as he had, an enterprise such as Shein would never have been on my list of choices. Instead, I may have taken myself straight to the mall, where I would have prioritized quality over quantity, luxury over affordability.
Now, however, reflecting on the situation and recently rehashing it with him, I think we both realized where we fell short. And it begins to beg the question… does financial stability and class have anything to do with morality and ethics?
My friend strongly believed it was unethical to support such a thing, no matter the reason. It was not until a few days ago, after being reminded about the situation, that I realized his point was not necessarily too far off.
At that point in time, he was arguing solely as someone who had a strong financial safety net. His perspective was solely his own. Having been at a point in his life where there was no immediate struggle nor doubt when it came to prices, of course, he had not thought about how everyone else might not have had that option.
Overall, he had a kind of “save the world” ideology.
Meanwhile, my ideology had more to do with saving myself. With making sure that I was making the smartest possible decision for me with the resources I had available. While his approach could have been better in the moment, his intention was not, and while my response was defensive and I could have acknowledged he was right in certain areas, I also had no ill intent.
A conversation that felt like a matter of right or wrong a few years ago turned into one where, again, we had to ask ourselves: Does financial stability and class have anything to do with morality and ethics?
Does growing up in a state of survival, where you are forced to look out for your well-being above all else, almost shift your morals? If so, is it maybe justified?
I say yes, and years later, my friend also acknowledged how both viewpoints were valid. Having these conversations and revisiting old beliefs is so important. It is always necessary to know where you and those around you stand on certain issues.
And maybe the point isn’t always to agree, but to understand—because sometimes what looks like a moral choice from the outside is really just someone doing the best they can with what they’ve been given.