Yes, I classify things when I go shopping. I often laugh when someone asks, “Have you already started classifying things when you do the shopping?” It’s the word “already” that gets me. For anyone deep in classification work, it’s not a question of if but when. Call it an occupational hazard: no heavy machinery, just tariff codes and a lot of curiosity about things.
Picture a quiet Saturday morning. You grab your shopping list, determined to make it a quick supermarket run. You walk past the fruit aisle and your brain goes, “Wait, is that mango dried or frozen? Different HS codes, obviously.” And a peaceful grocery trip becomes a classification exercise.
I’ll admit it gets a little intense. Once at Home Depot I picked up a shovel, just to “feel the quality”, or so I told myself. Then my internal dialogue started up: “Is this mainly steel or plastic? Is it a tool or garden equipment? Better check the label for the country of origin.” To anyone watching, I was some weirdo fondling hardware. To me, it was a proper puzzle.
My finest moment (or most embarrassing, depending on how you look at it) was at a theme park. A man had left his jacket lying around. I don’t usually mind other people’s business, but this jacket looked lined. So I held it up, checked the material, and told the surprised owner, “Hey, did you know the lining puts this jacket in a completely different chapter?” He looked at me as if I had just landed from another planet: an alien speaking in tariff codes.
That’s the life of a trade compliance enthusiast. At the very least, I’m always looking for the country of origin, like a detective collecting clues. Supermarkets, clothing stores, home improvement shops: nowhere is safe from my classification eye. I once classified hundreds of items for a Dutch importer in his showroom, where I spent hours poking and prodding each product to work out what it was.
It has become a way of life. The only place where I have managed to hold back a little is the electronics store, and even there I’m not safe. My wife just shakes her head and gives me that knowing smile that says, “Here we go again.”
Shopping, for me, is a scavenger hunt for HS codes. I know it drives the people around me nuts. But every store is full of classification puzzles waiting to be solved, and as “annoying” as it is, it’s part of the fun. If you recognize yourself in this and want to turn the habit into a career, here is how to become an HSN classification expert.