You have most likely heard by now that I caved. Here’s my mea culpa.
I have always been a fan of designer duds. Given my Calvinist background and my reluctance to spend the equivalent of my mortgage on an outfit, I have abstained from the couture department at Neimans and Saks and opted instead for the knock offs found a few floors down.
My Style? I like a good Chanel outfit complete with pearls or a Tiffany something-or-other. Much to my sister Sally’s annoyance, I have admired Sarah Palin’s wardrobe out loud (post shopping splurge of course) and continue to look to Nancy Reagan, circa 1985, as a seminal fashion icon. So when I was invited to “shop until I dropped” at the swanky, upscale, hoity-toity, designer brand employee store at prices exceeding 50% off of the manufacturer’s cost, what was I to do? It was a dream come true. Upon getting the invitation I was a bit nervous, dieting and all. I told myself that I could shop for others, after all Christmas was coming. Plus I wanted to see how deep the discounts really were.
Naturally, after a few minutes of browsing the racks of amazing apparel, I found myself in the oversized dressing room (people who spend a lot of money need a lot of room). Anyway, I was standing in my Natori bra and underwear smack dab in front of the mirror when I had the life changing conversation with myself. “Are you going to let a sociological experiment that your sister cooked up ruin your once in a lifetime couture moment?” The answer came to me loud and clear. “Hell no! You go girl!” And that’s how it happened. Can you blame me? (Sally refers to this as the apple moment).
Now, don’t get me wrong. I love a little thought provoking deprivation (I do a complete cleanse now and again), I think it builds character and brings me closer to my ancestors who struggled through the Civil War and the Great Depression. But this time deprivation got in the way of an opportunity I couldn’t pass up.
If it helps, I was reluctant to write about falling off the wagon because I didn’t want to spark a revolution. Don’t you girls get any grand ideas. And if I may, I would like to impart some inspirational advice…do as I say and not as I do.
Do I feel better, happier, and sexier now that I have an armful of very high quality expensive couture apparel hanging in my closet? I’ll tell you what, I feel smart because I bought an entire wardrobe for a fraction of my mortgage (if I had paid full retail it would have been double my mortgage and a car payment). But money and intelligence aside I know I will have all these items for a lifetime. In fact I don’t think I’ll need to buy another anything for the rest of my life—or until the swanky swanks invite me back.
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