The poetry and poignancy of the Consumer Prices Index

Tufted carpets out, flavoured milk in. Canvas shoes in, take away coffee out. Last year we accepted spreadable butter, dropped round lettuce. In 2006 we let in the chicken kiev and waved goodbye to the baseball cap. Call me a foolish commodity fetishist but I love the Consumer Prices Index (CPI). I could happily curl up in bed reading these lists of goods that have (or haven’t) made it into the national shopping basket that is the CPI that the ONS use to track inflation.

The ebb and flow of consumables (and rejectables) is as evocative and poignant as any literature could be. Reading the 2010 roll call, I almost found myself welling up remembering the things that I and others used to buy and eat. In: garlic bread, cereal bars, still mineral water (small bottle), electrical hair straighteners/tongs, lip gloss, liquid soap. Out: fizzy canned drink, disposable camera, lipstick, hairdryer, pitta bread.