Some of the first effects American consumers will feel from Trump’s tariffs will be in how much harder it will be to purchase the fast, cheap goods that Americans are used to procuring with the click of a button. This particular consequence of added duties on imported goods may be one which has a silver lining.

More than 30% of packages coming into the U.S. from China rely on an international trade loophole known as the “de minimus” rule. This loophole allows packages under $800 to enter the country without a tariff. With new tariff laws, however, some estimate that starting in June, low cost packages arriving from China could have an extra $100 charge added to them.

Without getting into the economics of tariffs vs. free trade, I can say that social media “SHEIN hauls” and subtle bragging about “online shopping addictions” could end up coding high class. And while I would never wish to come across as callous, limiting access to endocrine-disrupting, low-quality versions of trending dresses that will end up in the landfill after two to three wears might not be such a bad thing after all.

The fact is, we all need far less stuff than we think we do.

I don’t say this out of lofty arrogance – I have been guilty of buying eight dresses from Amazon for $20 a piece only to return seven and barely wear the eighth. But the voice in my head telling me to save for a better quality, timeless dress or, better yet, make one for myself, was often drowned out by the sheer ease of ordering something that will appear on my doorstep for the price of a restaurant entree in the next 48 hours.

Likewise, a pair of spring throw pillows, with what looks like intricate floral embroidery, are available on Temu for $5.83 as of this writing. I spent around $35 on fabric for pillow covers for my couches for the season. If I had ordered my pillows from Temu the same day I bought my fabric two weeks ago, they would be here by now; meanwhile I have only completed one out of three pillow covers in short stints during my baby’s nap times.

But my point is less about overconsumption and more to stress that our obsession with quickness and cheapness has caused us to lose an ability or even desire to create things ourselves. (Or perhaps our loss of ability to create caused our obsession with low-quality shopping.) As created beings ourselves, making something – whether a dress or a meal or a house – is one of those activities that remind us all what the Good Book means when it says that we are created “in His own image.”

If China and the U.S. fail to make a trade deal, and $100 duties are levied on Chinese goods, maybe we will be forced to reclaim a fruitful life that creates more than it consumes. Maybe ripped dresses will be mended more than they are replaced, at first because the replacement costs more, but then, after a while, because the user takes pride and joy in maintaining his or her belongings, since they represent something that costs him more, whether of time, effort, or money.

I don’t own shoe polish. This used to be a staple of any man or woman’s closet. We often opine that “they don’t make them like they used to,” but have we failed to consider that we also don’t maintain them like they used to? Our grandparents are still wearing the shoes they bought for the job they took at 40. We laugh that they look dated, but antique shoes are far less embarrassing than the fact that our fashion trends now last six to eight months tops.

If you sew a dress, you want to keep wearing it no matter the changing trends. Reclaiming our creative heritage helps us rise above whatever social media has told us is what we should wear if we want to be beautiful or sophisticated or a la mode. You don’t have to be a seamstress, a shoemaker, a carpenter, or a blacksmith. You could buy everything you own and still push against the fast-spending mindset. If you bought your shoes from your friend, who made the shoes from real leather with his own hands, bearing the marks of his own unique craftsmanship, chances are you are going to keep wearing those shoes even after a 16-year-old tells you they look “so three years ago.”

—

The republication of this article is made possible by The Fred & Rheta Skelton Center for Cultural Renewal. 

Image Credit: Pexels