As many of my regular readers know, I have had nothing but family drama since my mom died in April. I must admit that three months of being told what to do with my life by everyone and their grandmother and of feeling like I'm the only responsible adult in the family has taken its toll. My skin is an absolute mess, and my hair is thinning in front again; hence the trip me and my leg mohawk made to Sally Beauty Supply yesterday for generic Nioxin.Faced with stress, a girl can do one of two things. She can eat, or she can shop. After taking Chandler out to eat almost every day for two months, I'm almost sick of eating so I chose the latter when I first got back to town a few weeks ago. Now usually when a girl shops to cheer herself up, she goes for shoes. Well, I wear a 5 or a 5.5 so the selection in most shoe departments is pretty limited for me. Heck, at Payless I'm not even considered an adult. I'm considered a "growing girl." Too bad my 33-year-old wrinkles don't know that.
So what did I do? I went shopping for purses, the next best thing. My first stop was Marshall's. I had been coveting a particular Lucky brand purse there since Thanksgiving, a black and white, slouch hobo with purple piping. Back then, the purse was way out of my price range, but Marshall's had been steadily lowering the price for months. It was now on sale $49, more than I wanted to pay for a purse but far less than the original $140 price tag.
I didn't buy the purse at first. I just did what I always did: pick it up, try it out in the mirror, look at the lining and exterior fabric, check for any tears, put it back, pick it back up again, put it back, pick it up, put it back, tell myself that I didn't need it, and leave. However, when I got home, I became almost obsessed with that purse. All I did was think about it--how it would look with certain outfits, how different it was from my other purses, how much it would hold, how it would stand out from all those cow purses everyone in Atlanta seems to be carrying. I even went online and searched for the purse on ShopWiki.com. I couldn't remember the style's exact name, so I just searched for Lucky hobo purses and spent more than an hour combing through page after page of Lucky purses.
What I found out was Lucky brand purses are expensive, at least for me anyway. The cheapest one on ShopWiki was $99, while the most expensive one was $250. Every now and then if I have a gift card, I'll blow $60 on a Liz Clairborne at Belk's, but usually I spend around $20 or $30 on a purse at Target and then use it until I wear it out. Spending $250 on one bag is something I can't even fathom.
While I could fathom $49, especially in comparison to the prices I was finding online, I still didn't rush out and buy the thing. I had to basically talk myself into it. It wasn't until after my grandmother suggested that I just buy it, put it up for winter, and tell myself when I take it out that it's a Christmas present from my mom, did I finally resolve to go back to Marshall's. I told myself if the lone purse was there, I was meant to have it. If it wasn't, it was never meant to be.
As luck would have it, the Lucky purse--now there's a pun for you--was still on the rack the next morning. I took it up front and got a big eye roll from the cashier when I told her that there were two security tags that needed to be removed. I wanted to say, "Listen, lady, I'm not the one who put them there. Don't roll your eyes at me," but I didn't. I just swiped my debit card and went on my merry way.
Now here's where I turned into a real goober. When I got home, I took the purse out of the bag, went upstairs, put the purse over my shoulder, and basically struck a pose in my full length mirror. Like I said, total goober. I didn't do that once, but several times a day for a week, like I was practicing for my audition on America's Next Top Model: the Purse Addition.
Eventually, I started embarrassing myself and moved the purse to my closet. I still look at it once a day, but I don't take it out and strut it in front of my mirror anymore. Instead, I just silently count down the days until the weather begins to cool and I can carry a purse with that type of fabric. Then I tell myself, if I get this wound up over a purse, I really need to put down my laptop and get out more. Like that's ever going to happen.
