Before I go any further, let me make it clear that I am a reformed shopaholic. I can say that with the utmost confidence and a little sense of pride simply because i am happy with what I’ve accomplished. It wasn’t hard for me to curb the insatiable need to make that one last purchase whenever I’ve told myself that the purchase before the one I’m about to make was also the last. I just quit needing to shop one fine day without no particular reason. Maybe a part of me is beginning to form a sense of responsibility towards monetary related stuff. It is not that I can’t afford to spend the extra few dollars on something that I might need sometime in the unforeseeable future, it is the act of making the purchase itself that’s bugging me senseless. I won’t go all high and mighty by denying that I don’t like pretty and trendy stuff, only that just so happens, the things that attract my interest are wee bit expensive and are widely categorized as branded goods. I don’t know if many would agree with me when I say that shopping makes me feel great. As simple as that. I get that sort of ‘high’ that cannot be replicated by doing just anything else. Shopping makes me happy, it is like a therapy (i admit, a tad bit cliche) that never fails to do its job. It is also about the matter of self control and the power that you have over the temptation that is so seductive, you might just come and others around you won’t even bother to notice. Hah.
Yesterday was the last day of Barney’s warehouse sale so i succumbed to temptation and went, in the pretense of wanting to ‘check out’ what they’ve got to offer. Z and I were both unimpressed with the limited selections well, perhaps because it was the last day of the sale but the whole set up was a messy affair. I didn’t find stacking up very expensive shoes and throwing them in random boxes a flattering sight at all. Though the items are past seasons stuff, they’re are still branded and pricey despite the offered discounts. Extra care shouldn’t be much to ask, no? Could it be because of the large crowd, or the overworked staff or maybe the old plain fatigue was taking its toll on everyone? Either way, it was no therapy and I am happy to say that I left the building empty handed! I am a girl who is not willing to spend ridiculous amount of cash to get my hair done and it has been over a year since I last stepped into a salon. Back in KL, I make monthly visits to my hairstylist because I am that kind of girl, the kind that puts importance on her mane. I submit myself to all sorts of treatment mainly due to my colored hair and back then, I was wearing my hair long and wavy. So you can imagine the cost and time spent on this one part of beauty maintenance alone. But here in Manhattan, I just can’t accept the prices that they’re charging the clients, and with the tax and tips plus wanting the service that I’m already accustomed to back home, the damage would’ve came up to a minimum of 500bucks. And to that, I’ve been letting my hair grow like a bunch of wild weeds with the occasional hair serum to keep it in checked just so I don’t scare the neighboring kids off.
We drove to Beacon’s Closet afterwards and boy, we left with a smile on our faces and two small shopping bags. Y was the one who introduced me to BC and I’ve been quite a frequent shopper at the establishment ever since. First of all, their items are cheap, better selections and most importantly, their set up was nicely organized and was in a beautiful order without having to compromise its creative decor.
So what’s in the name of a particular brand? The prestige? The hype? The unexplainable urge to get the item off the display and into your awaiting hands?
I’m glad to be able to rise above it all and not wanting to just settle for a feign high and all too brief sense of delight. Instant gratification can bite my ass.
I now realize that the power is greater when you have the means to make any sorts of purchase but instead of doing just that, you hold yourself back and politely say “no, thank you” to the boutique assistant who probably has been cursing at you for lingering around too long; and walk away feeling twice as good.
Ah well. It’s the aging, they mellow you down. Just wait till we hit the highly anticipated midlife crisis. That would be just peachy.