Shopaholic

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Shopaholic

There’s a sense of satisfaction from walking around the store and looking at all the new clothes on the rack. Not much can top caressing the soft cotton and silky fabrics, trying items on and being thrilled that they fit perfectly, and seeing that not only are the clothes on sale, but they’re also an extra 30% off. I have a problem. But part of me isn’t so sure it’s a problem really.

I grew up in a home where we lived on the fence between poor and middle class. We had just enough not to feel deprived- clothes on our backs, food on the table and a roof over our heads. But we barely had nice things- unless my mother sewed it. And most of my clothes were hand-me-downs. If I wanted anything nice, I had to figure out a way to pay for it and usually I couldn’t even get what I wanted because my father wouldn’t allow me to wear it (but that’s another story).

Perfect circumstances to develop a shopping addiction when you get older.

I used to hate shopping, even though I still did it often. The reason I hated it was because I didn’t know what to look for for my body type and had a hard time finding clothes that fit right. So shopping was depressing and made me lose any self esteem I had before trying clothes on. It looked gorgeous on the mannequins and on the people walking around the store, but I couldn’t figure out how to make it look good on me. Such a frustrating experience.

But then I discovered a TV show that made clothes shopping make sense. Now that I’ve watched almost every episode of What Not To Wear, I find shopping enjoyable. Shopping therapy is real.

Every time I head to my car with my spoils, I feel like I have just won a battle. I find it very rewarding to come upon a great shirt or skirt for an equally great price.

It all starts like this: Your eyes are drawn to an item nestled between many other pieces of clothing, you first check the style. You ask yourself: Is this something I’d wear? If the answer is yes or maybe then a little warm fuzzy feeling begins to grow at the center of your lower ribcage. Now you check if it’s in your size. Often it isn’t and when that’s the case you look around for your size. But sometimes you hit the jackpot and the first piece is in your size. Then you check the price: Score! It’s on sale and gets an extra discount. The fuzzy feeling grows. You feel your cheeks warm and you know you’re smiling for no apparent reason.

You head to the dressing room. This is the last step. It fits and looks good. You couldn’t be happier. After a few more incidents like this, you head to the cashier and are done for the day (or that store). Battle: you crushed it.

That warm fuzzy feeling stays with you for the rest of the day, if not the rest of the week.

For now, I’m perfectly okay being a shopaholic. No AA (or is it SA?) meetings for me yet.

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One response »

  1. Pingback: New Year: Old Me | I Am Real.

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