Monday, September 19, 2011

A Shopping Rule

This weekend, I fell into (and successfully managed to escape) a trap that has ensnared millions of girls before me.

Let me set the scene for you all...
You're walking through the mall. You see something beautiful. You like it. You want it. You need it. You try it on without having ever looked at the price tag. There's your big mistake. Then, when you are absolutely hooked and you just can't live without this item, you peek every so quickly at the numbers.

Suddenly, and immediately, you shimmy out of it or fling it off of your body like you just realized it's radioactive. You pause. You ponder. You can't help but pick it up again, just to hold it. Just to pretend for a second that you own it. Think of how good you suddenly feel! So, should you buy it? I mean, it's not going to kill you to spend a little money on something you love sooo much. You work hard. You deserve nice things. Owning this particular item may even change the entire course of your life! But then again, you could probably find something cheaper...something not nearly as enticing.

This is the moment where you could either quickly slide it back on the rack and promptly feel ashamed of yourself for even considering it, or you could gleefully head to the checkout counter to begin the rest of your life! I know you've all engaged in this inner monologue. Not one lady out there is too pragmatic to have avoided this cheap thrill. This weekend, it happened to me, and I regretfully put back the nearly $250.00 Versace sunglasses and left the department store with my tail between my legs. But I haven't been able to stop thinking about how, for the 30 seconds they rested on my nose, I never looked more amazing in my life... More classic than Audrey Hepburn, more put-together than Olivia Palermo, more stylish than Blair Eadie! I was a vision of effortless beauty and consummate good taste.

But then I remembered that those sunglasses wouldn't be as helpful at the end of the month, when I'd likely run out of money and be forced to live off of a meager diet of dill pickles and diet coke. Below, you'll find some images of the item that, for a brief moment, made me question my very existence...


Post a Comment