I went into a consignment store today to consign a couple pairs of expensive shoes I never wear. Good, But then I started flipping through the racks of clothes. What am I doing, I thought, but I kept doing it. I pulled out a matte gold jacket, like I would ever wear such a thing. I tried it on and it fit, but it wasn’t fabulous. I put it away. And I got out of there real fast.
This is my year of no shopping, damn it. No shopping for clothes, bags, jewelry, or shoes.
A few weeks ago I was visiting my mom, who knows about my k’bosh on shopping so she said she’d buy me something. No, you don’t need to do that I said, hoping she would anyway. We went to Macy’s. I hate Macy’s. The second floor is less tawdry than the first. There I found a very serviceable blouse that I thought could see me through a lot of travel. Strangely, I kind of fell in love with it. But mom balked at the $89 price tag. Really? So I said never mind and we played guilt trips all around until we went to TJ Maxx where she bought me three nice tops for less than the price of that Macy’s one.
I’m humiliated. My year of no shopping needs to include no one shopping for me either. And I need to hold fast. No passing my hands over the clothes at the consignment store. Mind my own closet.
I’m also getting sloppy about grocery shopping. I’ve stopped eyeing and comparing every single price. I do it about half the time, but the other half I let it slide. This is dangerous. Danger, Will Robinson, I’m getting sloppy.