Sure, it was full of gunk, but that's no reason for a $700 vacuum to die. Photo / Supplied
Let me share a little secret that saved me $915. Yes, that's right ladies and gents, a very tidy $915.
Last week I was in a bit of a pickle. Sure, not a first-world conundrum, but pickle nonetheless. You see — my Dyson had stopped working. It abandoned me right when I needed it the most. After dinner with three small children.
It was one of those handheld ones that sleeps on the charger, hanging in our garage at arm's length for the 400 or so times a day we use it.
It would charge and charge … and then only work for a minute.
So I would charge it again. And it would only work for 30 seconds.
Back to the charger — maybe I haven't been putting it on right? But then it would make a sad little sound, and only work for just a few, frustrating seconds.
And then one day, it just never woke up.
It didn't matter how long it charged, or how often I made sure it hung in the cradle properly — I even checked that the electricity was switched on and power outlet still working.
"Get the new one — the V10 — it's meant to be really good."
WHAT A WASTE
According to Melbourne University figures, every year the average Aussie family produces enough rubbish to fill a three-bedroom house, producing about 2.25kg of waste each, every day. To make matters worse, Australia is one of the highest producers of waste in the world.
I don't want to be a statistic anymore.
We've had this Dyson for three years, which is exactly one year out of warranty. It cost us $700 at the time — and for that kind of money, I would expect more than 1000 days of service, warranty or no warranty.
Because, if I just went out and bought another one, would that only last another three years too? And is that just another hunk of metal to go to landfill?
So I resisted the urge to whack another grand on the credit card, and I called Dyson.
I explained my situation: That I was saddened by the loss of our lovely, loyal "housekeeper", and I quite simply didn't know what to do with myself.
"Oh, I am just so glad you called," the kind woman on the other end of the phone gushed.
So I smugly ordered the $85 battery. And, just like she said, it was couriered to my house. I didn't even have to go to the shops — talk about a winning combination.
My husband switched the battery out, we charged our faithful old friend, and slowly but surely, it purred back to life.
And then — it roared.
"Wow — this feels so different — and it's lasting so much longer," my almost eight-year-old yelled as she had tried to vacuum up the stubborn, sticky rice grains her little brother managed to get everywhere during dinner.
My tall, slender and very efficient friend was back. We were together again.
And it may have cost me $85 — but I prefer to think that I saved $915 by not running out to buy the new $1000 version everyone's been talking about.
I later looked on social media, and there are plenty of people who have had the same experience as us.
Like us, their Dysons broke, they called the service centre and their prayers were answered.
"Call Dyson directly — they are awesome," one Sydneysider wrote on Facebook.
"I just put mine in the post and they fixed it and posted back."
REPAIR AND REUSE INSTEAD OF RE-BUY
There are also a heap of YouTube videos to help with other repairs — maybe you have so much dust in your house that you need to empty your filter. It's easy — so easy, that I am now 100 per cent behind DIY repairs for the home.
According to a survey by Canstar Blue, one in three Australians buy cheap vacuum cleaners and replace them when they stop working.
We no longer have to get rid of expensive products that stop working because we think it's too hard, or give up and buy the cheap Kmart version that we will have to replace in a year anyway.
We no longer have to buy another $1000 appliance and only expect it to last a few years. We deserve more than that.
So next time something breaks, pick up the phone and ask the question.
Not only could it save you hundreds of dollars, but it will also give you the satisfaction of not being a sucker for the latest and greatest products.