When I went registered at Macy's, I was shocked by how much I was taken in by the system. Just standing in the store, I started to create a mental picture of my life with Adam, one of opulent wealth. Not that the kind sales attendant who helped us at Macy's was anything but extraordinarily professional--she didn't bully me into anything. It was the structure of the entire "wedding gift" department of the store. It made me want things I didn't even know existed. Or, perhaps want is an understatement: I was almost convinced that these things for sale in the store were requite for future married happiness.
Adam and I have found registering a difficult moral question. Two good friends of ours, adult professionals in the late twenties, decided not to register for themselves at all: they've chosen to register for a family benefiting from Habitat for Humanity. At first, Adam and I assumed that was a clear moral choice. We've decided to strive together to live below our means; expensive presents will only tempt us to purchase more nice things to match. There are so many people in this world with less than we have and, more importantly, fewer opportunities than we have. We wanted to give something to them.
These, thought, weren't the only questions we had to consider. What about those people who really want to give something to us that would support our lives together? We aren't altogether sure it was right to refuse the gifts they wanted to give in love. Are there things Adam and I really do need? As much as we don't want to clutter our lives with superfluous things, we want to be able to keep a pleasant home, showing hospitality to others as often as possible. And what about the overarching temptation of my life? If I give away my wedding presents, can I really avoid feeling self-righteous about it?
These aren't trivial questions. Adam and I are serious about trying to make moral choices together in every aspect of our lives, including finance. How do we use a system so strongly based on generosity, but so liable to materialism, correctly?
In the end, Adam and I decided to register for ourselves. Our compromise is to ask only for things that will last, or at least promise to last, a lifetime and only things that we need or will help us show greater hospitality to others. We also decided to register through the I Do Foundation. Partner vendors (including Target and Macy's) give a certain amount of the purchase price of gifts back to the charity of our choice--Habitat for Humanity International.
Still, I'm not sure what the right answer is. Generosity is a good. Materialism is a bad. I suppose the balance between the two will probably crop up for the rest of our lives together.
I too was torn by the registry conflict. In the end it seemed a no-brainer: there are just too many things Chris and I need. Even combining our stuff, years of reliance upon roomates and frat houses have left us without most things. Then, like you, I discovered that once you start registering youjust can't stop. Now, we both just get a big kick out of it. We know that Chris's family is going to want to buy us lots of expensive things and will be offended if we don't let them, so we have registered for EVERYTHING we could think of needing. Hopefully that makes them happy and gives us a little bit of a head start on preparing a home together.
ReplyDeleteHey, I can cook a stunningly wide variety of food with my pot and frying pan, and I've got enough properly absorbent towels.
ReplyDeleteThe registering was only fun after I had a few glasses of the all-you-can-drink wine.