Consumer-driven recession

I can't quite claim full credit for the downturn in consumer spending (though my contribution feels pretty significant to me), but I am convinced that it is driven by more than the sub-prime debacle. I got the idea of not shopping from a friend, and since then, have heard about scores more people who have made the same leap (let's not call it sacrifice). There are support groups devoted to shoring up the resolve of non-shoppers, and articles in the weekend papers. There's even a book, 'Not Buying It' by Judith Levine, in which she describes a year without excessive consumption - and paradoxically writes a best-seller about it. Sure, some are doing it because they can't afford to spend, but there's an equal proportion who, like me, are just fed up with 'stuff', of buying just for the sake of it - and then having to find somewhere to put the clothes/games/candles/pictures/mouli/cake stand we thought we needed.
I'm compiling a list of things I haven't bought - in itself fulfilling, and not just for reasons of economy, though that's a bonus. But I'm most surprised by the relief I feel. I don't have to make any decisions about what to buy; I can't feel too fat for the skinny jeans I don't even try on. I don't even feel a yearning for stuff anymore. If I don't go into Nicole Farhi, I can't lust over that cashmere dress I can't really afford (but bought anyway in a pre-not shopping frenzy in the December sales). It's a bit like getting married: you free that substantial section of your brain that's otherwise overheating about whether he's 'the one'.
The only downside I've identified so far - and yes, I am only 24 days into the year - is how to fill that time I'd otherwise spend in the shops - those spare hours between meetings, when I'd normally drop into West Village for a new dress, or Erikson & Beamann for a pair of earrings. I guess I'll just have to pack the schedule tighter, or walk more slowly.
The no supermarket resolution is, if anything, even more of a thrill. I have not missed them for a second, and when I had to pop into Sainsbury's the other day - just to deliver a letter - I couldn't get out of there fast enough. So far, there's nothing I haven't been able to get elsewhere. The farm shop has even started stocking creme fraiche and Fair Trade chocolate chip cookies for me. It might cost a little more, but I reckon I'm about even on my total grocery bill; I'm no longer suckered into buying stuff I don't need, and since I now shop little and often, there's virtually nothing to go mouldy at the back of the fridge. People may argue that small shops are the province of the rich, but I'm sure my homemade vegetable soup costs considerably less than the individual, pre-assembled, hamburger-in-sesame seed bun I saw in the check-out line before Christmas.
And if this turns into a movement, and the gathering vortex further dents the growth in Tescos' profits, then hooray. The truth is that the planet needs a bloody great recession at the moment, to allow us to get used to not feeling we have a right to everything, and to marshal our ingenuity into devising ways to live a low carbon life. From my - admittedly rather brief - experience, if it's not there, we don't really want it. Close the airports, and we'll start taking the train - or holidaying in Wales. Stop importing chives from Chile, and we'll grow our own. Ban battery hens, and we'll eat more veg.