02: An Item Must Fulfil Its Function

Conscious consumption isn’t about turning into an ascetic and living among bricks.

It’s about finally stopping the cycle of buying pretty junk — things that look good but destroy your routine, your nerves, and your posture.

It’s about healthy aesthetics that don’t sacrifice functionality. It’s about learning to think when you’re standing before a choice: a “beautiful lamp that doesn’t light” or a “lamp that won’t send you to the ophthalmologist.”

That’s what design philosophy really means — and yes, it should be ruthless. Because items aren’t meant only to please the eye. They’re meant to work. Otherwise, it’s not design — it’s decorative genocide.

An Item Must Fulfil Its Function. Period.

How often do you actually think about functionality before buying something? No, not “does this sofa match my emotional trauma,” but really — “can I actually sit on it comfortably?”

It seems obvious: a kettle should boil water, not scream into your soul with a plasticky squeal. A lighter should light — not burn your fingers or throw you back into the Dark Ages the moment it runs out of charge.

And yet, here we are — over and over — buying beautiful things that look perfect… in the trash two days later.

Is Practicality the New Luxury?

How many times have you bought a chair that makes your spine ache after ten minutes — as if you’ve just served a sentence in the Style Survival Camp? Or a “designer” cup that looks like a masterpiece — until you actually pour something into it: the handle burns your fingers, and it wobbles like a tipsy bartender on thin ice.

These aren’t mistakes — they’re emotions. Because in the moment of choosing, we don’t see a chair or a cup —we see ourselves: stylish, renewed, ready for a new life, a new mood, a new illusion.

We don’t buy an item — we buy a version of ourselves with it. And often, that version is a beautiful fool — suffering, but in perfect aesthetics.

 How Your Brain Sets You Up for the Same Mistakes

You think you’re thinking — but you’re not. In the first few seconds, System 1 (hello from Daniel Kahneman) takes over — fast, emotional, impulsive, like a student at a party. It’s the one that falls in love with design.

And when you’ve already bought the thing — that’s when System 2 finally shows up: rational, slow… and utterly powerless. Because its job isn’t to choose better — it’s to justify what’s already bought.

So let’s talk about how to invite System 2 as a VIP guest to the party called “Buy Me Now.” To pause before the click. To choose not with impulse — but with awareness.

How to Survive Without Buying Another Scooter for an Apartment Without an Elevator

1. Put Your Emotion on Pause

Before handing that item over to the smiling cashier, ask yourself two questions:

First:

Does it suit me?

Only then:

Do I like it?

Don’t mix aesthetics and functionality. Sometimes beauty is just visual anesthesia — masking the back pain from an uncomfortable chair.

2. Hold On, My Friend — They’re Playing You

Salespeople aren’t your friends. They’re trained to press triggers and plant guilt. They know: while you’re thinking, they’re playing the game called “Make the customer feel bad.”

And suddenly, you’re buying the thing because “well, they spent time on me.”

Stop. That’s not their time — it’s your brain under pressure. No one has the right to manipulate you. Not even you.

3. Don’t Overthink to Death

Some items you find in three minutes — and use for five years. Others you analyze for three weeks — and still return.

Don’t torture yourself with endless pros and cons. Allow yourself a thoughtful but light decision. Don’t buy emotionally — but don’t think until it stops making sense either.

Lifehacks That Save Money and Nerves

Pause — Your Best Friend

Never buy during an emotional peak. Sleep on it. If the desire remains — buy it. If it fades — congratulations, you’ve just saved money and space.

Aesthetics ≠ Function

Beauty is wonderful — but not when it kills comfort. Separate the two. Some items are made to be beautiful, others to serve.

Sometimes they merge, but when they don’t, be honest with yourself: what truly matters in this case — form or function?

Conscious consumption means not falling for shiny shapes that lead to a dull life. It’s not about restriction — it’s about freedom of choice. It’s about a design philosophy that doesn’t start with Pinterest, but with you — your body, your needs, your functional way of thinking.

Next time your hand reaches for that “too beautiful thing,” ask yourself:

“Is it worth paying for pain,if I can have both aesthetics and functionality?”

And remember:

a designer cup isn’t worth your burned fingers — even if it perfectly matches the color of your healing process.