MASSIVE Issue 7: The Capitalism Issue

The Capitalism Issue

Cover by Annick Harvey

editor’s Address

Kia ora koutou,

Hope you’ve had a lovely holiday and got some well needed rest, to stave away the perennial burnout of the capitalist era. This is the topic of this week’s MASSIVE. We are putting capitalism in the spotlight, examining the ways we live within this unequal hegemony as students. Never has there been a better time to examine our ties to capitalism, as the cost of living soars and we find ourselves tightening the purse strings or onto the third packet noodle meal of the week, just to get by. It sounds a bit grim, but we have some light-hearted pieces as well as some practical tips on where to go to get more bang for your buck and more flavour in your bang bang chicken. We’ve got cheap eats reviews, supermarket grocery comparisons and op shop tips. We have some great words from some inspirational writers, Rupi Kaur and Murdoch Stephens. We’ve got news and interviews and the usual columns to enjoy with a cuppa. Enjoy and ease back into semester slowly. Leila xo

What to look forward to

Tegan Jaggard (she/her)

Students say the minimum wage increase may not help them with the cost of living, but the increase in loan payments will.

As of April 2023, the minimum wage was increased to $22.70 and weekly student loan payments were increased to $302.32.

Charlotte had to pause her study this year in favour of working as a supervisor at a retail store full-time while her partner continues to study. With the money she is currently living on, she said, “This isn’t living, it’s just not dying.”

She said, “Working part-time just wasn’t paying the bills and it was really stressful. I was having to take so many sick days because my financial problems were affecting my mental health so badly.”

Charlottes partner was made redundant earlier this year and struggled to find suitable work, meaning Charlotte had to pay the majority of the bills before student loan payments started.

Charlotte said, “It really sucks, we have next to no furniture and neither of us can afford any.”

Though Charlotte makes over minimum wage at her position and the

company raised wages by a $1.55 an hour, “it isn’t enough for what I do.”

The student loan increase also meant her partner could contribute more to the bills while on his job search. She said the extra money “doesn’t make a dent.”

Serena is a second-year psychology student that works at a rehab centre. They said that the increase in minimum wage and student load will help improve their mental health. “The financial life of a student is hard. We [them and their partner] mainly can afford dinner food and that’s it. The minimum wage increase means that the stress all around would shrink.” Their partner Sophie is a first-year psychology student that also works as a retail assistant. They said the minimum wage increase doesn’t really affect them because they make over the new minimum wage already but

agree that the loan increases will help pay for food.

Holly, a third-year nursing student had this to say about the loan increase, “After rent, while the increase is really good, it’s not a liveable amount for newer students who don’t have a job yet, especially with winter grocery prices.”

Holly is also a casual healthcare assistant and placement gets in the way of being able to work for weeks at a time.

“The increase in student loans have come at a really good time, with the timing of placement and being unable to work as often as I normally would.” Ashleigh, a third-year design student and fast-food worker, said, “It [the loan increase] helps me because now the loan covers my whole rent and with my wage increasing, I find it easier to afford to live and save money.”

“This isn’t living, it’s just not dying”: Minimum wage and student loan payments rise

Students’ financial problems affect their mental health. Photo / iStock

New Massey confessions page will not provide a platform for hate speech

Sammy Carter (she/her)

Massey students finally have a place to anonymously confess their inner thoughts, but the account owner will not tolerate users who use the platform to spread hate speech. During the mid-semester break, Instagram account @masseyuniconfessions was made by the same person who runs the Victoria University confessions page with over 4,500 followers.

The owner, who goes by Anon (anonymous), was accused of censoring free speech after anti-trans activist Posie Parker visited Aotearoa in March.

A Victoria account user commented in support of Posie Parker and called Anon a “biased coward who censors free speech”.

Anon addressed the comment, saying they refuse to cater to people whose free speech actively impedes on other people’s right to live freely and safely.

Anon told Massive an anonymous page was great for students, however there were “opportunists who use the anonymous platforms to spread blatant hate or to harass people”.

“As the solo admin of these pages, they’re obviously going to be influenced by my values and beliefs. I’m not transphobic or homophobic and refuse to provide people with a platform to voice those beliefs.”

They believed the user’s confession was hate speech, “there are plenty of platforms for people with those same beliefs, I would recommend they give those a gander.”

Anon’s rules which protect students are no full names, no hate speech, and no sacrificing privacy. They said having a confession page can be “incredibly liberating” for students.

Over the past two years, Victoria students have learnt to trust Anon, and they hope Massey students will come to do the same.

“It’s been pretty amazing to see that I make people feel comfortable enough to reach out to me, and clearly trust me to remove stuff, or keep information between us.”

So far, Anon had posted confessions about Tussock Cafe, the dodgy elevators, and Massey’s vintage fashion girlies.

Anon started getting requests to create a Massey confessions page in the middle of last year, which they didn’t consider as they weren’t a Massey student.

“But on the 25th time of being asked, I decided I would make one”.

Anon’s favourite part of running confession pages is the community it has built.

They were happy to get to know Massey student president, Jake Law, and support things he advocated for. Anon said, “It’s comforting to know that there is an anonymous platform where you can seek advice, or simply get something off your shoulders without facing judgement or harassment.”

@masseyuniconfessions gives students a liberating platform. Photo / Instagram

Massey confessions page roasts the food options at the Wellington campus. Photo / @masseyuniconfessions

Playing House: Can Kiwis Afford the Future?

Julian Warmington (ia/he/him)

Samuel was sitting on a wall outside Massey University’s Wellington campus on a quiet Tasman Street late one sunny afternoon, watching the sun going down over Mount Victoria and the quaint wooden villas of Mount Cook.

A fourth-year photography student at Massey University’s Wellington campus, he has a degree in science and hopes to start his Masters in photography next year.

He is already one of the most qualified and skilled members of New Zealand society. But in this post-pandemic cost-of-living crisis era, could he ever imagine owning his own home one day?

He said, “I feel like the Kiwi dream, an acre and a house, to me, it’s shifted. I grew up rurally, and always lived on a little land and had a family home and I guess growing up I always thought: Yeah, I’ll do that.”

“But it just seems somewhat unrealistic to me these days. I think property is always going to be a worthy investment for security’s sake, I guess. But I’m not hung up on it like some people are.”

When asked to imagine a future where he had a job for National Geographic

and whether that would make a difference to thoughts of buying a first home, he said, “First, I find a lot of nourishment from remaining grounded in one place so I guess that will lead to being a homeowner. I guess I mean, financially, it’s like a more viable business. Be nice to, right?”

Jin and Boru were sitting over in the quad at the rainbow table outside Tussock Cafe.

Jin was studying industrial design three years ago until the course was canned due to the pandemic, so has been taking visual communication design since.

She spent some time at Wellington High School before starting at Massey University, and her mother was here from their hometown city in north China.

Now, her mother has returned to China, and the family home here is in Jin’s name. She feels settled, and, despite disliking Wellington’s weather, she does like the smaller size of the city, and its openness to the LGBTQ+ community.

Boru is from Guangzhou, China’s second largest city. These days though, while studying food science in Auckland, the city of sails seems much too big and busy, and Christchurch is nice and quiet.

Boru aims to work for a few years after graduating, but even then, family back

in China would buy a home in his name. He said house prices are cheap here, and homes in China are getting more expensive.

Jeff Elias is a mortgage “advisor and coach” with Futurebound brokers where he started working ten years ago.

He says as recently as 2015-2016, a lower-level professional worker like a teacher or nurse earning $70,000 per year could afford a house in Wellington for $350,000. Today, Elias said he had one customer on a medical staff salary slightly better than a nurse and she was buying a first home in Palmerston North where entry level homes go for about $500,000.

To consider a home in Wellington or Auckland, he said, “You need to have a very, very good single income or you need to be buying with a partner or a friend. Entry into home ownership now seems to be more the early 30s, than it might have been previously in the mid to late 20s.”

When asked about the rise in number of younger people buying homes with friends, Elias said he’s seen one or two per year and it’s not common, but it’s certainly become a thing over the last few years.

He described friends committing to sharing the cost of a house for three years and then deciding whether to continue or to sell and split the equity. When invited to guess, Elias estimated the current economic downturn could last another year or two but hastens to add that he’s not an expert and not even the experts really know either. We’ve just seen the first quarter of a year with house prices decreasing on average all around the country for the first time in many years. That might be welcome news for Massey students who have already graduated and started earning good professional wages.

Can common Kiwi students dream of buying a home? Photo / NZ Herald

Students seek alternatives to supermarket as cost of living increases

Dylan Jones (he/him)

Students are getting excited by affordable broccoli after the cost of living has risen, but there may be other options out there.

Massey University Albany students are taking produce from a free emergency food table more than they used to as supermarket prices continue to rise, says campus chaplain Carrie Rambo-Toehemotu.

“Four or five years ago, produce would be the last thing to go. Last year when the price of vegetables started climbing, students came by all excited about the broccoli,” RamboToehemotu said.

Stats NZ reported a 23% increase

in produce prices since February last year, with the worst affected, tomatoes, doubling in price.

Students interviewed on the Albany campus hadn’t heard about supermarket alternatives such as online store Supie.

Supie has been running for almost a year, with founder Sarah Balle making it her mission to fix a “broken system” through the grocery delivery service. The online supermarket has initiatives which aim to reduce food and packaging waste as well as prices. The initiatives included the No Waste range of items frozen before their useby date and sold at reduced cost. Despite alternatives like Supie coming onto the scene, Balle said that Kiwis are “super habitual, and it’s hard for us to break our habit of driving to the supermarket”.

Health science student Zoë Boonzaier, 21, said it sounded like a “top notch

option”.

Business student Derek, 19, has had to make some tough calls on his shopping choices now he’s flatting. Derek said, “I end up buying some produce every two or three weeks instead of every week.”

Fellow business student Beck, 18, suggested a local Auckland produce store, Fruit World, as a more affordable option.

A comparison of the same shopping basket found Supie had the cheapest price on eight items, compared to Pak’n’Save with four, and Fruit World with three.

Fruit World had the best deal on portobello mushrooms at $14 per kg, $4 cheaper than the others. Yellow capsicums from Supie were almost a third cheaper than the others at $1.69 each.

As for the exciting broccoli? This week it was cheapest at Pak’n’Save at $1.99.

Albany campus chaplain Carrie Rambo-Toehemotu and her husband Tim set up and man the emergency food table outside the library every Wednesday morning. Photo / Dylan Jones

Health science student Zoë Boonzaier, 21, thinks alternatives to the supermarkets should be easier to find. Photo / Dylan Jones

The Call of Capitalism: A horrifying tale of financially instability and not having enough money to buy Resident Evil 4.

By Aiden Wilson (they/them)

I am a simple human.

I like video games and music. I LOVE food. I enjoy having spending money left over after buying my food so I can buy video games and music.

Stereotypically, students are incredibly poor. Thanks to our loving government, those of us with cost-of-living payments are now a whole twenty dollars richer each week, provided we keep studying and knowing full well that we have to pay this money back someday. This extra moola we’ve been gifted is a result of the rise in living costs, as well as shitty landlords deciding they need to milk students for all they’re worth, most likely thinking “they should be thanking me for providing a mould-filled flat with a roof caving in and a family of roaches beneath its floors. I’m providing them a home; I deserve a bit more cash!” These landlords probably then wipe their asses with a phat stack of hundreds before putting on a Rolex and driving a Tesla to the nearest bank.

Anyway, back on topic, we’re now getting twenty extra bucks, but it makes absolutely zero difference when the big wig corpo-rats decide to raise everything just a lil’ more to match. As a result, almost all the cost-of-living is used up on either rent or food, and what little money someone may make from a job is probably going to be drained by one or the other too.

Once more, I am a simple human who loves video games, music, and food. Recently the remake of Resident Evil 4 dropped, and if you know me you know I love me some Resident Evil. Between my cost-of-living, and three little side-hustles I work, I have not been able to afford it. Thanks to the price of food skyrocketing so hard that Elon Musk is calling it the next step in space-faring technology, any form of luxury item has to fall by the wayside for a while. I know this sounds like I’m complaining about not being able to buy a video game, and at a surface level yes, I am, but it’s more than that. Since when did fun and entertainment become something that only the wealthy could consistently access? As humans we should not have to worry that the extra fiver we dropped on a stupid trinket for ourselves might be the difference between having bread or not in the shopping, or if we have to dip into a savings account to buy food ‘cause the prices have gone up once more.

Let’s talk about meat for a second. It’s not everyone’s thing, be it for ideological or dietary reasons or whatever. Regardless of your personal stance, society has deemed meat a staple in the human diet. So why in the fuck does 200grams of shitty mince cost almost eleven dollars? If you want actual quality product, the price only goes up from there. The whole joke about students only eating noodles is more reality than ever now, not due to student laziness or noodle convenience, but because that’s one of the most affordable items on the shelf right now.

In the current capitalist hellscape, we’re all the shit stuck to the boot of the 1%. The way things keep going up is further evidence of that. Next time you go grocery shopping during a supposed ONE DAY ONLY PRICE DROP EXTRAVAGANZA, take a look at what’s being marked down. Is it veggies? Meat? Hygiene products? Toiletries? No, it’s beer, chips, a random flavour of ice cream, maybe some potatoes if you’re lucky. Stuff that’s non-essential, designed to look like a steal so you spend more while getting what you actually need.

What I’m trying to say is this: thanks for the extra twenty that we’ll have to pay you back for, but we wouldn’t need it if you’d just stop prices from going up. In a month’s time having that extra twenty will feel like nothing at all due to rising costs eating it up once more. Increases in minimum wage and student loans shouldn’t be a signal for corps to raise costs. How morally bankrupt does one need to be to see the socio-economic disparity and decide they wanna make even more money from it?

At the end of the day, this isn’t just an article about students but about money and society overall. What kind of world has capitalism made where someone can see the hardships economically precarious families are going through and decide they can make a few bucks more off it?

Q & A with Murdoch Stephens

By Leila Lois (she/her)

Tell us a bit about the inspiration behind Rat King Landlord. Where did it come from?

We’d just had our rent put up by 19% in the previous year in our flat and our requests for basic maintenance were getting lost between the property manager and landlord. So we tried to find out who our landlord was to talk directly to them, but we just couldn’t connect to them. So, frustrated in the kitchen one night, I guessed that the landlord could be anyone. Hell, it could have been the rat that was making itself at home in our compost bin. From there I wrote the novel and eventually got in touch with Renters United to see if we could collaborate on one that is free for renters.

What’s your background in activism?

I founded the double the refugee quota campaign in 2013 and worked to get a lot of NGOs, media commentators and political parties to join that push. It became government policy in 2018 and I published a book on campaigning in the same year.

I’ve also hung around enough social justice groups in Wellington to be fairly aware of the various groups working in a whole lot of spaces. On the whole, left wing people are just fundamentally more interesting than right wingers. Even conservative friends say the same thing.

Do you like Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles? What do you think of Grand Master Rat?

TMNT was formative stuff. Splinter was the Grand Master Rat’s name, eh? The rat is almost the official mascot of dirtbag New York City, which is where that cartoon was based. I liked the calm of Splinter, that kind of surety about the mission of the turtles, like an old activist who has seen it all.

Do you like The Nutcracker? The Ballet. What do you think of the Rat King?

I haven’t actually seen it! I really like contemporary dance when I get the chance to see it, but am not really an aficionado of high culture forms like ballet or opera.

In your view, how do books/ illustrations work toward change? How is the book as an act of protest effective? Even in an explicit advocacy campaign, it is really hard to draw a straight line from one intervention to an outcome. So I wouldn’t want to overstate the role of Rat King Landlord in leading to change. But I think there are two things to highlight: first, in my own life, music has been

a greater medium to make me aware of injustice and to foster solidarity. Books are good to show the lives of others, and perhaps in this case, for renters to see their own experiences reflected back at them. Specifically for this book, I wanted to experiment with polemic, or agitprop (forms of critical political messaging). I wanted to contrast the usual narrative arc of a novel that fixates on the individual with some burgeoning social movement. As a writer, that was a fun thing to experiment with.

Second, this book is effective as the two pages that follow the conclusion of the book feature Renters United’s Plan to Fix Renting. And not only is it a plan, but in green they’ve shown the changes they’ve been able to get across the line so far. It’s great to be able to point to those pages when we’re giving copies away and some cynical yobbo comes up and asks, “well have you got the solutions, eh?”

Are we coming back into an era of ‘counterculture’ and ‘protest’, like in the 1970s?

I mean, maybe! But that said, almost every decade has had some big mobilisations - the Seabed and Foreshore hikoi in 2004, the anti-Iraq war protests in 2004, the Urewera raids protests in 2007, the TPPA ones, a pretty big one for increasing the refugee intake in 2015. The recent ones we’d probably think of would be school strikes, BLM solidarity and the trans-rights ones.

It sort of feels like there are two theories of when protests emerge, and both are materialist: (1) people protest when the material conditions that they face become intolerablerents are too high, let’s organise! Or, (2) people protest when the material conditions give them free time to get together and organise and attend protests. But what do I think - I have no idea!

I read Mark Amery’s review in Stuff, taking a quote from it: ‘people in Pōneke in the ‘70s were prepared to stage protests at developments or squat vacant properties. Whatever happened to those? Witness a Tenants Protection Association protest in Newtown over a developer’s move to demolish three houses to build a fried chicken bar. The only thing unfamiliar about this picture is our current complacency towards the steamrollering of market forces.’ .... how do we wake people up to this complacency?

I think most people know their own situation better than I could articulate it, but we often muddle along as individuals, aware that things are getting worse, slowly but surely. I guess I’m not a ‘wake others up’ kind of person because I’m not really into the dichotomy of those who sleep and those

who are awake… personally I love to sleep!

But more generally the question is about how we build solidarity and to me the answer is that we start from where we are at: we talk to colleagues about unions, we talk to flatmates about tenancy tribunals and joining Renters United and we talk to friends about going to protests together.

How easy was it to Crowdfund Rat King?

We started out really pessimistic about how it was going to go and so we made our minimum ask the lowest amount we needed to get the project over the line. If we got $1500 we could make 2000 copies on the worst paper possible. We ended up with $10,500 and made 10,000 copies on the best paper available!

I think three things really tipped us over the line: first, Renters United do an amazing job and a lot of us feel grateful for them for filling a media void; second, the artists really helped get the word out by sharing our social media and the pictures they were going to use; finally, Rob’s (previous Renters United president) design skills meant we had a constant supply of great images and ideas to share — even after we knocked past our initial goal, we kept momentum right to the end.

So it definitely wasn’t easy, but a degree of shamelessness in promoting the collaboration was essential. It sucks to constantly ask people for cash, but at least we fully believed in what we were doing.

Who’s your biggest inspiration? A thinker/activist that you love?

So many inspirations. Individuals are great and can make a change in a small country like Aotearoa, but I think I am mostly inspired by collective movements. A few that have left a lasting impression: the work of Halt All Racist Tours (HART) that worked for years to stop apartheid South African rugby tours, the ACT UP aids activists, mostly in NYC, formed in the 1980s, the enormous movement of workers at the turn of the previous century to create and embed the union movement. I mean, we didn’t have weekends before the union movement got workers to bargain collectively. If you don’t know what a union is, what this movement was, look it up!

What does Renters United! actively do to fix renting?

What are the best ways that students struggling with evil landlords can get help?

I can’t speak on behalf of Renters United as I collaborated with them on this project and am only a member, not

a representative. But from that place, I would suggest people get a copy of the Renters United edition of Rat King Landlord and look at the final two pages. It’s bloody impressive! There are about 37 things, across four categories, that they are campaigning on - and they’ve already helped get many of these changes.

I asked Renters United about the second part of the question. Éimhín O’Shea, from Renters United, said, “to get help your best bet is to connect with the advocates working in your own community.”

You can purchase the book, and others by Murdoch Stephens, on the Lawrence & Gibson website: https://www. lawrenceandgibson.co.nz/ or you can wait to get a free copy, which Stephens will drop into Te Tira Ahu Pae.

Wellness and Capitalism: A Paru Mix

By Cameron McCausland-Taylor

There are fundamentals in this life that we all deserve access to - nourishing kai, clean drinking water, a roof over our heads, healthcare, you know the know. These are examples of what I’d consider the foundations of wellness. However, I think it’s pretty apparent that wellness culture in the Western world has seriously skewed into something else entirely. If we really want people to live well, we need to go back to basics and address all the inequalities surrounding access to the basics, with capitalism being one of the biggest obstacles to equitable wellness in society.

Te Whare Tapa Whā is an excellent place to start. I’m sure many of us are familiar with Dr Mason Durie’s very popular Māori health model Te Whare Tapa Whā, but for those who aren’t, I’ll quickly give a rundown. Te Whare Tapa Whā is represented through the symbol of a wharenui that describes four cornerstones of wellbeing - taha tinana (physical health), taha wairua (spiritual health), taha whānau (family health), and taha hinengaro (mental health). If any of these cornerstones are missing or damaged, a person’s wellbeing is struck off balance. This model was designed with Māori in mind, with a wish to see Māori thriving and living their best lives. Unfortunately, there is a high portion of Māori in our society that lack access to the basics, throwing the entire Te Whare Tapa Whā out of whack and meaning we rank highly in healthcare statistics around cardiovascular disease, respiratory disease, and oral health, to name a few.

Now that we’ve painted that picture, let’s talk about what wellness culture looks like today. To be frank, it’s turned into a world full of meal replacement bars, cleanses, detoxes, ‘aesthetic’ skincare, supplements; all of which cost an arm and a leg but capture the hearts of many due to promises of a healthier, happier life (I’m looking at you, Gwyneth Paltrow). I don’t know about you, but I have definitely fallen into the ‘health kick’ trap, convincing myself that I’ll finally be my happiest, healthiest self if I start drinking $10 smoothies, spending all my savings on organic skincare, and attending ridiculously expensive hot yoga classes. This lifestyle is constantly promoted by influencers online, primarily rich white influencers, overloading us with information and products that will “change your life forever”. I don’t care what other people do with their bodies. If people want to do a cleanse or buy a bunch of supplements, they may do as they please. It’s just mind-boggling to me that we, as a society, are engaging in these capitalistic practices in the

name of wellness without tackling the essentials first. A rebuttal to the whole wellness argument is often “what’s wrong with wanting to be healthy?” Nothing is wrong with wanting that or striving towards that. But promoters of this certain lifestyle often neglect to acknowledge their privilege in maintaining this way of life. In the same breath, they blame individuals for their poor health without recognising the social and environmental factors that may be contributing to someone’s health status. For example, look at the cost of living in Aotearoa when it comes to buying groceries! The prices for kai such as fruit and veggies are absolutely insane, yet people love to criticise whānau who buy a feed of KFC. For struggling whānau, the only thing on their mind is survival, not health. Promoting the likes of overpriced seed blends don’t even touch the essence of what a struggling whānau’s Te Whare Tapa Whā should include.

While I’ve been focusing mostly on physical health, it all intertwines in Te Whare Tapa Whā, leading me to my next point: how is the promotion of this lifestyle dangerous for our taha hinengaro? Like I said, social media influencers are constantly ignoring their privilege and contributing factors to poor health. One of the most popular trends right now is the “that girl” aesthetic, advertising an aspirational wellness that includes the likes of beauty rituals, workouts, productivity, and self-care, which includes… you guessed it, WILDLY expensive products and habits that are guaranteed to make you THAT girl who has her shit together (I’ll admit it, I have a “that girl” Pinterest board, and I’m embarrassed about it). The language used is also toxic af, talking about delivering the “best version” of ourselves by being a successful, efficient cog in the machine of a capitalist system. This content provides us with hope that if we buy all the products, lock in all the habits, and immerse ourselves in productivity and hustle culture, we will truly be that best version of ourselves, and our mental health will instantly be so much better. How do we expect our struggling whānau to fit into these notions when they’re in survival mode? Better yet, why do we expect ANYONE to push themselves to the capitalistic limit?

Again, this trend, and wellness culture as a whole, sets out to make us feel guilty for not having all this shit in our lives and trick us into spending all our pūtea. It plagues us with slogans like “Just get up and do it” and “No excuses” to

make us believe that our mindset and motivation are the only obstacles we must face, and that if we just get those in check, we can have it all. For many, this just isn’t the case, with the substantial barriers they face invalidated in this conversation and their mental health damaged further through an unnecessary guilt of “making excuses”. A bunch of Goop skincare and a candle that smells like Gwyneth Paltrow’s vagina isn’t going to heal depression, whānau, but confronting the likes of homelessness and food poverty in Aotearoa begins to construct a stronger Te Whare Tapa Whā for many.

It’s easy to get caught up in all the bullshit. I’ve done it plenty of times, as I’ve pointed out, and will probably go on to do it again. But returning back to Te Whare Tapa Whā really helps to ground me, reminding me of what the important roots of wellness really are and allowing me to plan for how I can apply those values to the best of my ability. I examine the barriers that I face being a fat wahine in Aotearoa, meaning my access to quality healthcare and affordable clothes that fit are limited in comparison to my thinner peers, and I begin to plan how I can still honour all four cornerstones in light of these barriers. However, I also examine the great amount of privilege I hold as a MāoriPākeha middle class wahine. I might get caught up in the bullshit from time to time, but I can financially afford to eat balanced meals and hit the gym. Who gives a fuck if I can’t afford a bunch of supplements from NZ Muscle? In the grand scheme of things, that doesn’t mean shit.

Arohamai e te whānau, I don’t have the answers to solving the cost of living crisis or erecting affordable housing in Aotearoa. However, I think it’s important to shed light onto how cooked wellness culture in Western society truly is and remind us all during these times that we don’t need all the hogwash currently being shoved down our throats. It’s more than okay to live within your means, and there are urgent, grassroots issues that need our attention first as a collective before we worry about the superficial shit. Let’s be real; we are never going to live up to the unrealistic wellness standards being forced upon us unless you’re a high-class, thin, white social media influencer who can afford to eat granola in a pomegranate for breakfast every morning.

Glossary:

Paru – yuck

Kai – food

Wharenui – meeting house

Pūtea – funds, bank account

Wahine – woman

Arohamai - sorry

Illustration by Annick Harvey

Illustration by Eden Laing

Sexcapades

Read 2:37 AM

It was the Summer holidays and my boyfriend and I were visiting his grandad’s big old house by the sea in the South Island. We went to an old pub one night while his grandparents were asleep (or at least we thought they were) and after a few pints and glasses of Otago pinot noir, we arrived back at their shack feeling a little... frisky. It was Winter and we also were looking for ways to keep warm, so we jumped onto the couch by the fire and started to get it on. Little did we realise, his Pops was in the kitchen (without the lights on) watching the whole show... we heard

him splutter on his tea and that gave it away. I grabbed my clothes and ran into the bedroom red-faced, and I could hear my boyfriend telling his grandad off in the other room. Apparently, his grandad (who had a bit of dementia and poor eyesight) didn’t even realise we were getting it on and thought we were having a ‘nice cup of tea’ too. But definitely will be keeping the door closed next time!

Solicited Advice

From Pocket

Solicited advice is a weekly column where Massive’s own four-legged Agony Aunty, Pocket, shares her wisdom and experience with you all. She speaks only truths.

Pocket, my dear friend, I’m having human troubles. Every evening, when I like to assert my superiority by sitting with my eyes closed on my cat tree, my humans insist on trying to pat me. It is most bothersome. However, they refuse to pat me when I am ready to receive their affection, generally between 4 – 6 AM. What should I do?

Dinah, my dearest, I’m sorry to hear of your strife. It is stories like this that remind me why I choose not to have humans of my own, instead opting to roam the streets in a roguish and adventuring fashion. Try leaving secretions on your cat tree until it assaults their olfactory senses too greatly to approach. Then they shall be desperate to pat you when you sit on their heads at 4 AM. Regards, Pocket

Do you have a question you’re dying to have answered? Massive Magazine on Instagram or editor@massivemagazine.org.nz and look out for next week’s issue - no question is too difficult for Pocket.

Aquarius Pisces Aries

There’s dust on your shelves that’s been there too long.

Drink some tea this week, someone’s got something to tell you.

You’ve had too much caffeine this week already. Have a nap please.

What are you procrastinating this time? Use that planner you bought, Taurus.

Be mindful of a text, Gemini, you’ll thank me later.

Take a moment for yourself and stare at a pigeon this week. Embrace nature.

Try yoga, you need to chill out.

What have you forgotten now?

Scorpio Sagittarius

That tote needs a clean out, don’t be afraid, it can’t hurt you. Let things go.

Change that lightbulb and feel brighter this week.

Watch a scary movie this week, you need to get over your fears.

Capricorn

Buy a random CD this week. Embrace change.

Basic Witch

By Tui Lou Christie (she/they)

Witchin’ on a Budget

A humble review brought to you by a local Witch-aboutWellington. Reviewing the places and things that will help you develop your pagan practices, revel in your arcane knowledge, and ascend to your highest self. This week, I’ve tried my best to review places that help me stick to a budget. Depending on the kind of practice you follow, witchcraft can get pretty expensive! Spiritual products are often handmade with great care and intention, and the artisans who create them deserve to be compensated fairly. But, there are a few places you can scrimp and save! I try to gather anything I can in the wild, but sometimes your spell or ritual calls for something you can’t find in the forest. I’m as anti-capitalist as the next witch, but legally this publication can’t endorse shoplifting candles from the homewares section of Spotlight, so I’ve tried to collate some other cheap options for you.

Trash Palace

5 stars ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

When you’re on your way to dump a load of magic run-off at the local tip, Spicer Landfill, you’ll be pleasantly surprised to find Trash Palace just outside. I know the landfill is a great resource in itself, with mountains of human hair, seagull bones, and unidentified cats, but it can be pretty dangerous for those of us who are presently corporeal to go picking around among the earthmovers. Skip the hassle, and head for Trash Palace. Cooking pots, books, candles, old fur, haunted dolls, portraits of dead people, Tupperware— there’s all kinds of amazing things you can find for your practice here.

Place:

Makara Beach (low tide)

4 stars ★ ★ ★ ★

If you can make it all the way to Makara, it’s definitely worth the trip for the free rocks. For all you witches out there that are both thrifty and delusional, you don’t need crystals. You just need literally any rocks and resolute intention! It’s not too long of a trip from Karori if you have the right broom, and there’s lots of wonderful potential resources along the way, like hundreds of sheep and the local cemetery. If you go at low tide, Makara Beach is also a great spot for kelp, driftwood, and bloated fish carcasses, in case any of those are useful for you. For any centaurs out there, keep in mind that Makara is a very rocky beach, and the locals might put you down if you break an ankle.

Place: Place:

Pak’n’save Kilbirnie

3 stars ★ ★ ★

This is probably the cheapest spot to buy non-iodised salt, star anise, bay leaves, sage, and any other herbs you might need if you can’t grow or forage them for yourself. I personally tend to avoid entering a Pak’n’save if I can, as the towering shelves and fluorescent lights assault my spiritual aura. I become physically aggressive and foam at the mouth. However, the bins round the back of this place are a treasure trove of free, delicious, festering rubbish. Reminds me of my first husband!

Illustration by Eden Laing

Raising the Bus Fair

By Todd Trewern

Capitalism prides itself on achieving the most efficient results through the power of the free market. Given every person’s spending is driven by their wants and needs, capitalism allocates goods and services to those who want them most as measured through their willingness to spend more than others. This pushes the prices upwards – think TradeMe bidding war. Thankfully, capitalism also gives us competition between sellers. All buyers are going to want the cheapest thing that meets their desires, which helps to push prices down – think Pizza Hut offering a $5 range to undercut Dominos.

Competition is great! If everyone is vying for your dollar, they’ll try to minimise their costs and drop their prices. Where services are provided by the government, capitalists argue, there is no competition to ensure efficiency and lower prices. This was the reasoning provided for the introduction of the updated Public Transport Operating Model (PTOM) system in 2013.

Public transport is overseen by regional councils (Greater Wellington, not Wellington City, say). The framework for all council activity is set by central government – what they can and can’t do, and how they must do it. PTOM are the guidelines councils must follow in running their public transport schemes.

Since 2013, this has meant councils must segment their networks into bundles of routes and call for bids from the private sector to meet them. Companies then make their offers, and the council then chooses the best offer. This is the market in action! Competition between bus companies ensures that regional councils are paying the cheapest amount to get the services provided to their residents. Those companies have trimmed all the fat, made the best possible offers that they can, so we all stand to benefit from their efficiencies, right? The contracts, which specify the levels and quality of services must be followed, ensure efficient public transport to the standards residents want, need, and expect, right?

Let’s imagine we run a bus company, looking to be selected to provide a bundle of routes in Wellington. To make

sure we can win the tender, we need to cut our costs. Unfortunately, we don’t set the price of buses, so we can’t save meaningful amounts on this front. The price of diesel is also something that we can’t change. In fact, the only major business cost we are in control of is how much we pay our drivers. And it works! Now we have our bundle of routes, our business can operate them and still make a profit (our shareholders will be happy!).

Even if we only cut wages by 20c, over the course of our contract (which could be as long as 5 years) we will save large sums of money. Because we have no way of knowing how our competitors will act, we should cut our costs (wages) by as much as possible – maybe even all the way to minimum wage.

What will happen if we cut our drivers wages? People quit – and you can hardly blame them. In February this year, RNZ reports, there were an average of 1085 cancellations per day in Auckland, and 448 in Wellington. This isn’t a new phenomenon, and the government has tried several things to resolve this issue: topping up PTOM contracts to ensure Wellington driver wages of $27, then $30 per hour, and easing immigration constraints for bus drivers. These have led to minor improvements in reliability.

What’s really needed, though, is a new PTOM – one that allows councils to consider factors like wages in their decision-making. One that allows non-corporate organisations, even councils themselves, to bid for and provide public transport.

The Government has started work on one with a new name (Sustainable Public Transport Framework), a new acronym (SPTF), and a new key goal, alongside reliability, affordability, accessibility, and safety, of ensuring “employment and engagement of the public transport workforce is fair and equitable.” One that stops ‘the race to the bottom’…

This work is expected to be completed by next year, but in the meantime, we are stuck with the consequences of a strictly commercial public transport network. At a time when sitting in traffic costs the country billions in productivity annually, when air pollution from vehicles is making us sick and leading to premature deaths, in the midst of a climate crisis that requires urgent action, the ‘efficiency’ provided by the current PTOM is ensuring that choice in transport doesn’t exist for most.

Sheep thrills at Rams Restaurant

Joshua McCorkindale (he/him) is a graduate of Massey Distance, a bon vivant, and an avid foodie. The great thing about dining out on Cuba Street in Wellington is the variety; Middle Eastern, Argentinian, Asian, and everything in between. You can spend $10 on a kebab, or several hundred on a degustation. In the dead centre of Cuba Street, at number 171, is an unassuming Chinese Restaurant by the name of Rams. With Formica tables and laminated A4 menus, this restaurant would not be offended by being labelled ‘cheap eats’.

Rams markets itself on their signature dish, Chilli Oil Dumplings. This is not surprising as they have the title of ‘Best Dumplings in Wellington’ which was bestowed by a food reviewer not long after they opened. Yes, the dumplings are great, and any restaurant critic could write 500 words on these tasty morsels. However, they are not what brings me here on a fortnightly basis.

The crowd tonight is mostly younger people, it’s a Thursday night and it looks as though everyone is ready for the weekend. It is windy (as per usual in Wellington), and I’m seated at a table in the window, great for watching over this infamous street. The walls are painted beige — again, very unassuming. There is a small wooden cylinder on the table that houses metal chopsticks and a few knives and forks. I might be white, but I am NOT eating Chinese food with a knife and fork.

To say this restaurant is understated would be…. well, an understatement. It lacks ambience and ‘vibes’, but I assure you that the food is worth the visit. I would say that the mood they are going for is unpretentious. There is table service, wine by the glass, and BYO.

We order the usual: Kungpo Chicken ($18.50) and Sweet & Sour Pork ($18.50). Both dishes come with rice. They are phenomenally generous sized portions, if you added an extra rice, you could easily feed three people.

Within minutes, the Sweet & Sour Pork arrives. It consists of juicy deep-fried pork pieces in a sticky sauce with some onion and pineapple. This dish is a staple at many Chinese restaurants, and some might argue it’s a cop out to order something so basic. I would say that those people are missing out. It is a really balanced meal, and perfect for my carnivorous appetite. Between me and my partner, we make easy work of this succulent dish, washing it down with a glass of Pinot Gris.

A few minutes later, the Kungpo Chicken arrives - my personal favourite. This is a classic dish from the Sichuan province of South-Western China. There is also a pepper by the same name. The chicken in this dish is delicate. The onion, celery and bok choy is fresh. And the peanuts are soft – how do they make them like that? The sauce is something to write home about. Slightly spicy, a touch of sweetness, and a pinch of MSG. It can best be described as umami.

The clever balance of flavours in this dish makes it a real treat for me. It feels wholesome, like an old family recipe. It feels authentic, like you are eating this dish in a restaurant in the Sichuan Province. It feels moreish – I’ve eaten this dish more times than I have had fast food this year. It has always been the highlight of my visits to Rams.

Rams is a very unpretentious restaurant on Cuba Street in Wellington, but it dishes out some of the best Chinese food in the city. P.S. they also deliver through Delivereasy and Uber Eats.

Rupi Kaur ripped my heart out and put it back together

By Sammy Carter (she/her)

Rupi Kaur teaches us about love, friendships, migrants and not to take men’s shit in her world tour.

I have to admit that I’ve been living under a rock. I had never heard of poet Rupi Kaur before my 77-year-old Nana invited me to go see her show in Wellington. Rupi is a Canadian poet, artist, and performer originally from India. When my Nana asked if I’d like to go see a poet at the Opera house, I thought, how can a poet go on a world tour? Does she just stand on the stage and speak for over an hour? Well, that’s exactly what Rupi did, but boy was it powerful. Rupi walked out in a blindingly sparkly magenta two piece with her long dark hair straightened down her back. The very first thing she said was “hey my cuties”. She said she didn’t want any of the usual “snaps” that poetry audiences do when they hear something they like. She wanted us to be reactive and loud, even if the poem was sad. This built up over the night with girls yelling and swearing, matching the energy of Rupi’s poems. A screen displayed Rupi’s moving art, adding a picture to the words she said.

Her poems are mostly for the girls, and this means people have looked down on her work. Classic. She spoke in between poems about how when her first book was selfpublished, many reviews deemed it as bad. It reminded me of how Taylor Swift is often called tacky or cheap because girls adore her.

Rupi’s poems spoke about a woman’s experience in such a relatable way. They were specific to her experiences with men, often her intelligence being overlooked or feared. One poem started, “You tell me to quiet down cause my opinions make me less beautiful”.

Rupi also spoke about her mental health. Her poetry described how her depression snuck in her window without her seeing it coming. My Nana, who also has depression, said this perfectly described what it can be like.

She also performed some unreleased poems including one about her gratitude to her refugee parents. The line that struck me most was about how her dad had crossed an ocean before learning a vowel.

Poetry can sometimes feel like puzzles you have to unpack. However, I think the reason Rupi’s work is so popular is because it’s so easy to understand. She told the audience that when she wrote her first book, her university teachers told her self-publishing was a dead end, no one buys poetry books anymore and all famous poets are dead. Despite this, she self-published Milk and Honey in 2014 and it’s now the most sold poetry book ever.

The show was an hour and a half which was just the right amount of time. She kept the audience on our toes by moving from poem to poem with different moods. However, there were some people going on their phones in the last half hour and texting. One girl in front of me was even sending work emails.

I left the show with my Nana and sister like little girls in the school yard chatting over each other. My Nana absolutely loved Rupi Kaur. She walked out saying some men in her life are offended by her intelligence and she mustn’t take it anymore. I left ready to spend my Massive Mag paycheck on all of Rupi’s books.

Rupi Kaur started her Wellington performance saying “hey my cuties”. Photo / Sammy Carter

Big boots to fill: alternative fashion and its anti-capitalist legacy

By Tui Lou Christie (she/they)

Fashion is an expression of identity, and therefore cultural values and fashion are intrinsically linked. Counterculture movements of the last century, encouraged by increased travel, global media, and music, have used fashion as a political statement. It is these counterculture movements that led to today’s ‘alt fashion’. Without love children and punk anarchists, we wouldn’t have cottagecore or e-girls. Capitalism, and its related ideologies and byproducts, has always been a massive driving force of culture and fashion. It follows that counterculture, social and cultural movements with alternative fashion to match, often has an underlying message of anti-capitalism that is sometimes forgotten when evaluating their lasting effects on fashion today. ‘Alt’ fashion and anti-capitalism go hand-in-hand, and here’s a brief history of some of the biggest movements that showed off this relation between fashion and identity.

Beat Generation

There was a massive rise in consumerism in the ‘50s, due to the post-war economic boom, advances in technology, and the rise of mass-media and thus the rise in advertising. There was a growing set of cultural values which was now being reproduced and reinforced through new media, an America that valued conformity and consumerism over free expression and individuality. This status quo, of course, generated those who opposed it: The Beat Generation. The Beat Generation was a literary subculture, including authors and poets like Jack Kerouac, Allen Ginsberg, Gregory Corso, and William Boroughs, who wrote against American economic materialism among other topics of post-war American society. Along with any influential art and media movement comes fashion, and the way these authors and their enthusiasts dressed reflected their cultural values. At this time, men in America were still expected to wear suits at most social events, and the culture of consumerism promoted always having the new and fashionable thing. The Beat writers embraced dressed down, everyman clothes like Levi’s jeans, T-shirts, and workwear. Like many countercultural movements, the Beat Generation was young, and they also took fashion influences from their academic or student backgrounds, with sweaters, slacks, button downs, and sports coats. Beat authors like Joyce Johnson and Diane di Prima influenced the countercultural womenswear movement at this time, again focussing on functional fashion. At the time, Christian Dior’s ‘New Look’, which defined fashion of the period through global media, emphasised the feminine, hourglass figure with voluminous skirts and cinched waists. Opulence and luxury (and thus, consumerism and materialism) was in. These Beat authors and their enthusiasts, known as beatniks, opted for black jeans or

capris, pencil skirts, turtlenecks, and oversized sweaters or silk blouses, also taking inspiration from the modern jazz movements that soundtracked the era of counterculture. This should sound familiar to you dark academia girlies and Carhartt enthusiasts. As this casual style was gradually popularised and co-opted into the mainstream, the implicit political statement that went along with dressing that way gradually faded out of public consciousness, but we have the Beat Generation and beatniks to thank for this.

Hippies

‘Hippies’ is a slang version of ‘hipster’, both of which were originally used in media to describe beatniks before they were applied to the new age, drug-taking, free love proponents of the 1960s. As the movement was so large, growing out of the late ‘60s and into the ‘70s, the values or ideologies associated with it are wide and varied. However, like the Beat Generation, hippies were predominantly young people who used fashion as a way to express their cultural beliefs, including their anti-capitalist views that moved beyond the cultural and social domains and into the political sphere.

Hippies purposefully dressed down, wearing casual shoes like sandals or going barefoot. They took inspiration with prints and clothing from international and indigenous cultures, taking a visual step away from dominant American ideals, like dashikis, peasant blouses, headscarves, moccasins, and Native American jewellery. For the most part, they were inspired by cultures that prioritised community and communal living over money and capital gain, again reflecting their cultural values through these fashion choices. In a step against anti-consumerism, many hippies made (or tie-dyed) their own clothes or purchased clothing from flea markets and second hand shops.

What is probably most clear in your mind about a hippie’s politics is a strong anti-war stance. The ‘peace sign’ that we know and associate with hippies now is originally the anti-nuclear sign. Non-violent protests against the US involvement in the Vietnam War began in the 1960s, and hippies’ involvement is still clear in the public consciousness. War and capitalism are deeply connected, a topic that is far too large to explore in this article, and the USA’s involvement in Vietnam was seen as an act of imperialism, a practice driven by capital gain.

I hope you think about this legendary anti-capitalist legacy next time you’re putting on bellbottoms, vintage and boho lovers! As well as their contributions to changing societal attitudes, we also have hippies to thank for many amazing styles we have today.

Punk

Punk is such a large subculture that, again, covers so many different beliefs, still going strong today decades after its first emergence in the UK in the mid-1970s. This music-based subculture has always had a huge focus on ideology, and a lot of these cultural values were directly or indirectly opposed to capitalism. While many were outright socialists or anarcho-communists, punks often also opposed capitalism’s by-products like consumerism, globalised economy, corporatism, war and imperialism, and gentrification. Ideologically, punk is majorly influenced by previous political/literary/countercultural movements, including both the Beat Generation and hippies.

Punk music emerged from garage rock, and is characterised by noisy riffs, heavy drumming, distorted guitars, and politically inclined lyrics. They embraced a DIY ethic to combat a capital-driven music industry, often selfpublishing music or signing with independent labels. Punk fashion took a similar approach to the music; DIY-focussed, in your face loud, and inherently political.

DIY is inherently anti-capitalist and anti-consumerist and aligns with the punk ethos of people power and disrupting hierarchical systems like economic class. In punk clothing, this often meant taking second hand or already owned clothing like blazers and denim and customising them with studs, spikes, patches, and pins that reflect their personality. It meant utilitarian shoes like Doc Martens, canvas sneakers, and work boots. Rips and holes were fixed with safety pins and tape, and unconventional materials like PVC ruled as young people forged their own loud visual identity to accompany their loud music.

Punk rock music is overtly political, as it usually features straight up political or protest lyrics. In the same vein, punk fashion is overtly political through the heavy use of slogans and text. Its common to see punks with clothing covered in handmade patches sporting political and protest messages, or referencing their favourite punk artists that share their political beliefs. It’s still a common sight today to see anti-capitalist slogans like “eat the rich” on punk clothing.

Any grunge babies, ex-scene kids, or goth gfs should be taking notes about this legacy. Next time you’re putting on your Docs, remember you’ve got big boots to fill. So what?

I know many of you already do, but if you’re an alternative fashion lover as I am, it is so important to know your history. Today’s fashion landscape is an amazing, eclectic mix of talent and style that draws inspiration from all over the world and across time. While we are freer from ‘fashion rules’ and dominating trends, we are also more

likely to be victims of ‘microtrends’ that encourage overconsumption and promote alternative fashion devoid of its political implications. Fast fashion brands, the very peak of hyperconsumerism, co-opting and profiting from alternative styles that are steeped in anti-capitalist countercultural history is upsettingly ironic. It’s important to be critical of capitalism and consumerism when we are making our clothing choices. When you get dressed in the morning, beautiful alt fashion lovers, you are making a statement of identity; make sure it aligns with your practice.

Illustration by Eden Laing

An Online Shopping Hellscape

By Molly Richards (she/her)

In my experience, online shopping is a hellscape. Let me explain. I acknowledge that there is a time and place for online shopping. You don’t always have access to the shops you want, or you can’t or don’t want to go to them (I understand). In this case, online shopping makes sense, there’s no shame here. I won’t judge you for online shopping, I’ve been there. In my personal experience it began as a convenience thing and because of this, it’s so easy to get sucked into the consumerist wormhole online. You know that little cart in the corner of your screen is magic.

I’ve largely stopped buying stuff online, not to say you should as well but I’ll tell you why I have. Now, I don’t want to come across all high and mighty. I still online shop, just not often. For starters, I hate waiting. That sounds bad, but if I buy something I want it now. I guess that’s me just being impatient, but the stress of waiting for a package isn’t something I revel in. I tell you I’m tracking that pair of shoes down every day until it shows up at my door. It’s all consuming, or should I say it’s consumerism.

If we’re talking clothes, shopping in a store isn’t the only way to go (obviously, this is an online shopping feature). What I mean to say is that I love going to the shop when it suits me. I want to try stuff on and at the same time I hate it. I want to touch the clothes and see how they look when it works out. When it doesn’t, and I hate everything I’ve tried, I don’t want to shop again. That’s why I don’t own any jeans, I hate jean shopping. They never fit right and it’s exhausting. That’s not a problem when online shopping. You like something, you guess the size, and hope for the best. What a dangerous little game. You see how easy it is to get lost. I suppose it’s that excitement of when your haul finally arrives. But have you ever asked yourself ‘why the Hell did I buy that?’ I have.

When I started getting money in from summer work, I thought I’d treat myself. With no time to go out and shop between shifts, I turned to online shopping. I needed some new shoes but naturally that turned into a new wardrobe. I like to think I have great self-control; I get only what I need, usually. However, I don’t know what possessed me to buy that bodysuit. I wonder if I was trying to relive my ballet days. I wasn’t. I thought it would look cool with some dress pants. It didn’t. For starters, it was too small, and then the colour wasn’t what thought it would be. Thinking back, if I

had tried it on in a shop, I certainly wouldn’t have bought it. Yet being a naïve online shopper, I was convinced. It was on sale, the model in the picture looked great in it so I risked it. Those ads can get you as well. Got me. You search for a shoe once and you’re done for. I still get ads for cowboy boots now, all trying to call me back down the rabbit hole. It’s scary, the way they tell you that you need it. You want it, you must buy it. It’s only one click away. Wrong. You don’t need that blue bedazzled jumpsuit. Seriously you don’t, just stop.

You know what else is clever, cunning, and terrible for my bank account? Shipping. You might have experienced it. If you purchase a certain amount, you qualify for free shipping. Sounds exclusive, sounds special. Really, it’s when you end up chucking random things you didn’t really want into that alluring cart (*ahem* that body suit). That’s it really; the cart never fills up. You don’t really see how much you have hauled until you hit the check out. By then it’s almost too late. What do you get rid of? The blaring screen blinds you from the truth and your heart drops at the total $ that mocks you blatantly against the white.

Now I’ve never gotten into any pay later systems which is a relief. Paying later isn’t inherently bad at all, again it has its moments and at the same time, its drawbacks. It’s even easier now you can do it online. Slicing up that total cart into easy payments looks like a tempting justification for buying four knit dresses (don’t ask, again what was I thinking?). $19.75 a week for four weeks instead of $79 now? Doesn’t look too bad.

I remember a time our flat would receive a bag, box, or package of online stuff every other day. Getting the door had become a full-time job. It wasn’t me this time though, rather my flatties had become avid online shoppers. With all those 21st birthdays to go to, a dress was needed. I understand. I hadn’t fully recovered from the body suit incident to bother shopping. I was going through my thrifting stage. I marvelled at their trust in the online realm. Speaking of trust, how much can you give these online websites? Now I’m not pointing fingers, but I’ve seen these ‘what I wanted vs what I got’ TikTok videos and it’s wild. Funny to watch, but if that were me (and it has been), I would be super disappointed. Just imagine you thought you ordered a lamp and ended up with a lightbulb. That’s a

bit farfetched but the point still stands, you don’t always get what you wish for.

The good thing about online shopping is that you can stick whatever you’re looking at into a Wishlist. Have a think and come back. That helps me find some clarity. If you come back and are like, what was I thinking? Great, you’ve saved yourself some moola. If not, get it, or if you’re unsure, it’s not ready yet. Take it from me who has dodged far too many spandex bullets behind that Wishlist. All I’m saying is take a moment and reflect, your bank account will thank you.

Illustration by Eden Laing

That One Time My School Started a Black Market

By Elizabeth Chan (she/her)

Calling it a black market may sound a bit extreme, but never the less true.

It was in primary school where starting small businesses became a trend. My classmates went full blast on the idea of earning their own money instead of depending on their parents’ (possibly) measly weekly allowances.

It all started with the realisation that you could turn homemade arts-and-crafts items like origami, glitter resin charms and keychains, bookmarks and the like into a profit just by selling them.

There wasn’t really a reason why starting small businesses in school was seen as a bad thing, but for some reason, my classmates would usually buy and sell their items in the cafeteria in secret.

My teachers probably did not want to be liable if people got ‘ripped off’ for buying items they could never afford. After all, they never wanted to be liable for anything, even when students were getting ostracised and bullied to the point their desks were covered with (intentionally) spilled water.

Buying into the trend, I was utterly fascinated over some glitter charms a girl in my class was selling because they looked like they were made of fairy dust.

It wasn’t much, just dried glitter glue poured into a mould that turned out as heart-shaped charms.

But I never bought her charms because they were way over my budget of my allowance.

So, she sold her charms to my other classmates but hid her charms from everyone else, so that she won’t arouse the attention of our teachers.

Hence, the era of the school’s black market began. The same girl then encouraged me to start my own side hustle.

Because I was (and still am) more of a bookworm, I told her that actually starting a business, no matter how small, wasn’t my thing. She then responded saying that there’s nothing easier than starting a small business and I would be dumb if I couldn’t.

Brash words, but weren’t we all a bit tactless when we were kids?

Flash forward to 2020, with everyone cooped up in their homes from the pandemic, small businesses made a comeback.

Everyone I knew hopped onto this trend. Some started baking while others started crochet and sold tank tops and tote bags.

It was then I started feeling indirectly peer pressured again as I sat in my home, trying to get my life together thanks to COVID-19 disrupting all plans to return to New Zealand for my last year of high school.

After all, there was nothing to do at home and starting a small business was “easier than ever” with social media. Consequently, I attempted to start a book blog and hoped it could turn into a sort of a small business by gaining readership.

In the end, the book blog never happened because I discovered that hobbies and small businesses are two separate things.

I greatly enjoy reading, but turning it into a blog where I would have to give book reviews every single week added too much pressure since I prefer to take my time in reading. It feels like I’m actually “breathing in” each emotion felt per chapter when I read slowly.

Turning it into something that I would have to rely on for a profitable means just made reading less enjoyable.

I guess choosing not to turn your hobbies into a small business doesn’t mean that you’re dumb. It just means you enjoy spending time with your hobby at your own pace. Just because others can make a living out of their hobbies doesn’t mean you should feel pressured to go with their flow.